


Flowchart

by albawrites



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Found Family, Gen, M/M, Multi, robot violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-05-24 01:55:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14945433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/albawrites/pseuds/albawrites
Summary: The origins are the same. Markus, a caretaker for an old, famous artist. Kara, a household model involved in an abusive home. Connor, a special investigator prototype with a mission to find deviants.The origins are the same, but the beginning of their stories are different. The end will be what's needed of them.





	1. CONNOR: Adventures in Wonderland

**Author's Note:**

> This is essentially a role swap AU fic. Everyone's origins are the same, but their paths are immediate diverged for the beginning of the story. More will be explained as the story goes on.
> 
> Connor: Takes Kara's role, remains a deviant hunter but is working undercover as a household model.

**FIND AMANDA.**

It doesn’t smell like anything in here, despite the suggestion of pollen sprinkling the air as it swirls with faux wind. In the blades of grass, he can even spot a beetle climbing, ants crawling in the dirt; the closer he walks, he is careful to avoid them, and watches with little concern as birds fly away to escape his approach. All the little details are there, as could be expected. Unnecessary, but it was not his design to be chosen.

It was theirs.

Connor makes his way down the path, finding Amanda in the center of the garden. She’s tending to the flowers. Clipping them.

“Connor,” she greets him, her lips not quite smiling, but her gaze professional.

“Hello, Amanda,” Connor replies, voice even and polite as ever.

“There have been some new developments, some changes made to your mission.” As if thinking to herself, Amanda tests the stem of a flower she’s yet to clip, squeezing it between her index finger and thumb. “We need to understand how this deviancy is spreading. You will be going undercover, and your objective is to study an android.”

Connor takes a moment to download the information, reviewing it carefully, blinking a few times. “I’ll be taking an AX400’s place.”

“Temporarily.” Amanda clips a flower. “We’ve discreetly placed the model to another owner. You will be in its place to study. Your ultimate mission objective will be no different: you will find the cause for deviancy, and put an end to it.”

Without hesitation, Connor nods his head once. “Of course. You can count on me, Amanda.”

“Hurry, Connor.”

 

-=-=-

 

It smells of plastic and dust.

The next time Connor opens his eyes to the real world, his blinks a few times, watching from behind thick plastic casing. The last time he ever felt like this was in CyberLife headquarters upon his first time being rendered online, but this is still different. It’s less pristine, and he glances around as he watches people windowshop for their next android.

He realizes he’d never really been in a store before.

Connor takes a moment to review and accept his new instructions. 

**STUDY POTENTIAL DEVIANCY.**

The routine data in regard to HK400 models is readily available in his mind, barely a dent in his available memory space. All of the basic housework, cooking, and many other domestic skills required. It’ll be easy enough to fit in, he thinks.

His eyes glance up when he hears a pair of men approaching, one a store clerk and the other a face in his data.

**TODD WILLIAMS.  
** **DATE OF BIRTH: SEPTEMBER 21, 1995**  
**DIVORCED.**

“There was a lot of damage to the last model. CyberLife said that it wasn’t really recoverable, and I’m sorry about that,” the clerk says sheepishly. “But they sent this one in as a replacement until we get another model like yours in.”

“Pain in the ass,” Todd grumbles. “I’m not paying extra.”

“Oh, no! Of course not. This is just to tide things over, I assure you. Ah, how did you say the last one was damaged…?”

Todd looks away, instead peering up at Connor. “Car hit it. Stupid thing didn’t move out of the way.”

Connor carefully looks over Todd in a split second, watching beads of sweat on his brow, the bags under his eyes, and his face ready to scowl. There is an increase of heart rate, making it difficult to really believe his statement. Silently, he reviews the data in his mind, having already downloaded the previous damage reports on the original model.

**AX400 MODEL. REGISTERED NAME: KARA  
** **DAMAGED/DESTROYED ON SEVEN DIFFERENT OCCASIONS.  
** **DAMAGE CENTERED TO CRANIAL AND CHEST REGION PRIMARILY.  
** **INCONSISTENT WITH VEHICULAR ACCIDENTS.  
** **TRUE CAUSE?**

“You know, I’ve never really seen a model like this one before,” the clerk muses, looking over Connor.

“Whatever, it’s fine,” Todd snaps. “Let’s get this over with.”

The clerk coughs. “Of course. Let’s go ahead and get this finalized.” He turns to face Connor. “State your name.”

The plastic container opens, and he puts on a polite smile that does not reach his eyes. “My name is Connor.”

The paperwork is settled quickly enough, and Connor is sent on his way, joining Todd in the car. The ride itself is completely silent, allowing Connor to focus on reviewing information to himself. It feels a bit odd like this, not being apparent about what he is, what he is truly capable of made unknown to Todd. He understands why, but he has previously introduced himself openly and apparent in other situations.

Like this, he is processed, like any other basic android. It’s interesting, in its way.

The neighborhood that Todd lives in is surrounded by constructions, the home dismal and completely the opposite of the clean and clear comprehension of CyberLife HQ. It is unfortunate, Connor supposes, but he doesn’t think the observation helps much for his investigation. Still, the detail is put away in his mind for now.

He exits the car, following Todd through the front door.

There’s much to take in immediately. The inside is worse than how the outside looks: unfinished paint along the walls, trash and dishes left strewn about, and a large amount of clutter on the coffee table, including a pipe that Todd has left out in the open, implicating him for drug use. Most commonly these days has been Red Ice. He wonders if that’s true for Todd, and what it means that he doesn’t care to hide it.

Connor surmises he does not receive many visitors.

“It’s been two weeks since Kara’s been broken, so the place is a fucking mess,” Todd grouses. “So you’re picking up where she left off, got it? Cooking, cleaning, and looking after…”

He trails off, then frowns. “Where the hell did the little brat go?” After glancing around, Todd shouts, “ _Alice!!_ ”

Connor looks to his left, watching it warily descend the stairs, a fox plush toy clutched in her hand. He scans it.

**YK500. REGISTERED NAME: ALICE.  
** **RELEASE DATE: JULY 2033.  
** **NO DAMAGE REPORTS FOUND.  
** **MISSING LED?**

Is this the possible deviant he’s supposed to study? Of all the reports he’s heard, Connor hasn’t heard of the YK500 models becoming deviant. Not that it’s impossible, he supposes. 

Alice looks at Connor with wide eyes, as if it were concerned or troubled. Though the reaction is curious, Connor opts to smile, not faltering. 

She does not smile back.

“You take care of her too,” Todd says. “Clean up down here, then head upstairs.”

Connor watches Alice retreat upstairs, but he replies without missing a beat: “Of course, Todd.”

The tasks are menial, allow Connor to process and think while he performs them. As he’s picking up the dishes, he observes and confirms his suspicions that Todd does use the pipe for Red Ice, crimson smoke rising as he works on getting his high as he watches his game. Though Todd is clearly breaking a law, it’s not vital to his investigation to report him.

Once he’s finished inside, Connor steps out to the back to gather the laundry, but pauses when he notices Alice over his shoulder. As it sits down gingerly on the steps of the back porch, it keeps its doll to itself and slowly glances up toward Connor.

Like before, he smiles in its direction. Alice looks away, as if frightened.

Connor had been made to integrate normally with adult humans. The idea of mingling with a child, android or no, is not something that he’d been initially designed to do, but if Alice is a possible deviant or can help in his lead, he does need to interact with it.

Slowly, he makes his approach, as if trying not to startle a rabbit. “Hello, Alice,” he greets, crouching down in front of it.

Alice glances up, then quickly back down to its feet.

“I’m sorry Kara isn’t here. I’m sure when they’re done repairing it, it’ll be back before you know it,” Connor offers.

The mention of Kara gets Alice’s attention, its face turning up to look at Connor for a moment longer than before.

**KARA: MEANINGFUL CONNECTION WITH ALICE?**

“That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to get to know you, either. Like what your hobbies are, your interests. I’m not Kara, but I’ll do everything I can to help you,” Connor says, his smile remaining.

Alice’s fingers twitch over the plush, as if considering.

There’s a brief pause, then Connor reaches into his pocket, pulling out a coin. His 1994 quarter. It was a nice gesture for CyberLife to let him keep it, and he isn’t concerned about Todd discovering it. Connor is perfectly capable of being discreet.

“Do you want to see something?” Connor asks.

As he begins to spin the coin on a fingertip, he finds that Alice’s eyes can’t resist watching. It is, after all, an android modeled to imitate human children; that innocent wonder in its eyes is almost convincing as it’s drawn to watching.

In one smooth gesture, Connor turns his hand over, making it seem like the quarter is gone as he holds his palm out. “Oh!” he says in faux surprise. “Where did it go?”

Alice looks on, enticed.

Reaching out to its ear, Connor flicks his wrist and reveals the coin. “There it is. Thanks for holding onto that for me, Alice.”

Though Alice says nothing, there’s so much language on its face, like it wants to welcome that brief moment of what looked like magic. It wants to revel in it, but something keeps it from following that expected directive. 

Abruptly, Alice stands and walks up the steps, but pauses to look over its shoulder at Connor. Another second rolls by, then Alice flees inside.

Connor pockets his quarter.

 

-=-=-

 

The house smells like mildew and sawdust.

During Connor’s exploration of the house, he’d noticed the packet of Red Ice in the open box of detergent. He’d opted not to remove it, not wanting to push the possibility of being discovered, but it did continue to implicate Todd. Not only does he use it, but he is likely a dealer, which may explain how he’s able to cover the cost of the androids. All over the tables and desks are notices regarding credit cards being past due, but Connor has every doubt that they’ll ever be followed up on. The only notable thing that Connor really finds upstairs are two medications: one prescribed to Todd for depression, and another that’s an over the counter sleep aid.

Connor takes the latter bottle.

The last detail he finds is the gun in Todd’s drawer. Connor does not take it, suspecting that Todd will very quickly notice its disappearance.

There is an outburst that happens when Connor descends the stairs after finishing his rounds cleaning the bedrooms and bathrooms alike. He watches how Alice tries to keep to itself, but Todd approaches, his position aggressive. He yells, he accuses, and Alice looks on in silent terror.

Connor is convinced, for a moment, that Todd might hit **her.**

Instead, Todd collapses in front of Alice, weeping, apologizing, and Alice’s gaze meets with Connor’s.

It’s good, he thinks. It’s good that Todd didn’t hurt it.

Eventually, when Todd is asleep, Connor lets him. Technically, he should focus on making dinner, but he sees it as an uninterrupted opportunity. He glances over his shoulder, then makes his way upstairs to Alice’s room. Lightly, he knocks.

“Alice, it’s Connor,” he announces quietly. 

It’s silent a moment, then very slowly, the door opens. Alice looks up, but steps back to let Connor inside.

He smiles, as he has been, as he’d always been programmed to do to make himself seem more pleasant. At the silent permission, Connor steps into the room, letting the door stay ajar. 

“H-how…” Alice finally speaks up. “How did you do that trick?”

“Well, that’s easy. It’s magic,” Connor says, lying, knowing that it knows, but the charm of the idea must not be able to escape Alice.

As he sits on the edge of Alice’s bed, it stands a few feet away, as if uncertain about joining him.

“Kara didn’t know any tricks,” Alice says eventually.

“I’m a different model,” Connor says. Very different, in fact, but there’s no need to share those particular details.

Alice closes its eyes. “I don’t… I don’t want Kara to be replaced.”

“I’m not replacing anyone.”

“But Daddy...” Alice whispers, its voice trembling. As if nervous that Todd will overhear, it looks over its shoulder before back to Connor. Nothing else is said.

“Kara is supposed to come back,” Connor says. “I’m just here temporarily, Alice. You’ll see Kara again eventually. Until then, I’ll do what I can to be as Kara-like as possible.”

Alice’s lips twitch a little. Not a smile, but it seems close.

“I like your coin trick,” Alice says, finally moving closer. “You can just be Connor. It’s okay.”

“Alice!” Todd’s voice shouts up the stairs.

Awake. Connor silently curses; he’d hoped he’d have more of an opportunity to interact with Alice. It looks at Connor, those wide eyes showing signs of fear.

“ _ALICE!!_ ”

Cringing at the booming voice, Alice abruptly shoves a key into Connor’s hands. It turns around toward the door. One last glance is given to Connor before Alice runs out of the room.

A thoughtful frown forms on Connor’s face as he looks down at the key. He glances up across Alice’s room, spotting a music box with a keyhole. It did seem like Alice had wanted to tell him something, but couldn’t. Considering Todd’s entire demeanor, it couldn’t be blamed entirely.

Slowly, Connor stands up, unlocking the box. Curiously, he investigates inside, looking over a four leaf clover that he picks up. Setting it aside, he peers down at a photograph. He immediately recognizes Todd, but there’s also a woman and a young girl in it. 

**JESSICA WILLIAMS. EX-WIFE.  
ALICE WILLIAMS. DAUGHTER.**

Connor blinks a few times. Alice. So Todd had purchased an android to replace the daughter that had been taken away by his divorced wife.

The photo is set aside, but he finds a series of pictures within, undoubtedly drawn by Alice. He glances them over, finding various ones. Alice, holding hands with Todd. Alice, with a bleeding temple. Did Todd remove the LED? For what purpose?

There are other pictures, many showing Kara, including Kara laying on the floor covered in blue crayon. 

Thirium. Blue blood.

**CAUSE OF DAMAGE: OWNER ABUSE?**

So Todd would break Kara, and Alice has an attachment to Kara. For what reason? Connor considers. It’s within programming that a model like Kara would teach and care for children, but Alice isn’t real. Would Kara actually try to _protect_ Alice? What would cause Kara to do that? Still, there are no records of Kara acting out against Todd that he’d found. Maybe it wasn’t out of the question for Kara to treat Alice like a human child if that’s what Todd ordered it to do.

Which, considering at the evidence, is very possible.

“Connor! Where the fuck is dinner?!” Todd shouts.

Quickly and efficiently, Connor slides everything back into the music box before locking it. “I’m coming, Todd!”

There isn’t much to arrange in dinner, unfortunately. He’d already noticed how little is in Todd’s refrigerator other than condiments and beer. It takes just a second to review the house model protocol to determine what _could_ be made. Nothing more extravagant other than spaghetti, but it’s a hot meal and it would do.

It doesn’t occur to Connor to bring a plate to Alice. After all, it was an android; androids don’t need to eat. Even its sort of model wouldn’t be made for that kind of option. When Connor places down the plate of dinner for Todd, the man scowls, perpetually on the brink of blowing up.

“Where’s hers?” Todd asks, glaring at Connor.

Connor blinks. “Why? Alice is--”

“Where’s her fucking plate?! Don’t talk back to me! Hurry up!” Todd snaps.

That’s… confusing.

**WANTS TO TREAT ALICE AS HUMAN?  
** **ABUSES ALICE? WANTS ALICE TO BE TREATED AS HUMAN?  
** **ALICE?**

Too much confliction. Could it be that Todd really was trying to replace his child?

“My apologies. Right away, Todd,” Connor responds, falling back into his polite, impersonal smile. He casts a glance toward Alice, who looks at him with uncertainty. His smile does not change, even as he turns to fetch the extra plate.

It’s beginning to be very clear as to why Alice is how it is. With so much unpredictability with Todd, likely its programming is becoming stressed. Deviancy definitely could be a possibility with it. There are some signs of fear, anxiety, and even possibly PTSD. More study might be necessary after all.

With that in mind, Connor makes an extra stop in the kitchen. 

**CALM TODD DOWN.**

In a manner of speaking.

Connor looks out of the corner of his eye, noting that Todd’s back is still to him. Good, that’ll make this easier. He reaches into the fridge, pulling out one of the many beers inside, popping off the cap. From his pocket, he smoothly thumbs in a few sleeping aid tablets, watching them dissolve into the beer.

He returns, placing the beer in front of Todd before placing the plate before Alice. He has no doubt that Alice saw exactly what he’d done.

The smile Connor bears is a little more sincere, and he winks at Alice. Impressively, Alice keeps the entire thing to itself, ducking its head, lips trembling, as if it can’t decide to smile or remain afraid in Todd’s presence.

Over the course of dinner, Todd grumbles about androids, very quickly making short work of the beer, much to Connor’s satisfaction. If not for the sleep medication, Todd’s ire would have risen out of control, but instead it’s kept to a simmer as he fidgets and mutters. 

Eventually, Todd’s head leans back, and he dozes off to a loud snore. 

“Let’s get you to bed, Alice,” Connor encourages, smiling brightly. “I’ll read you a story, if you’d like.”

With hesitation, Alice smiles back.


	2. MARKUS: A Study in Scarlet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origins are the same. Markus, a caretaker for an old, famous artist. Kara, a household model involved in an abusive home. Connor, a special investigator prototype with a mission to find deviants.
> 
> The origins are the same, but the beginning of their stories are different. The end will be what's needed of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Markus: Take's Connor's role, but his beginnings as Carl's caretaker remains the same.

If it were at all possible, Markus would spend the rest of his days watching Carl paint. Even if he’s asserted that he has nothing left to express to the rest of the world, it’s impossible to not find admiration in his technique, his palette, the colors; Carl is always about expression, and has always encouraged Markus to do the same with him. He has so much more to learn, even though he knows how much time is limited.

That’s why it feels worse to receive the news as he does.

Carl looks like he takes it well, but Markus can see his scowl, how despite his fragility and age he refuses to withhold a prepared snarl of disapproval. They are both so powerless, but the difference between them is that Carl can speak freely about it.

“It’s basically a draft, isn’t it?” Carl says, scoffing as he tosses the printed email aside. “What do you think, Markus?”

He doesn’t have to, but Markus does try to choose his words carefully. “It’s not the most satisfactory thing to hear.”

“It’s all right, you can say it’s bullshit.” For a moment, Carl smiles crookedly and Markus can’t resist joining him. “I wouldn’t let this happen if I could, but you were a gift from CyberLife. They can technically decide to pick you up and put you wherever they can if they deem it an urgent matter. Whatever the hell that means, anyway.”

The smile fades, and Markus holds out his hand. Without hesitation, Carl holds it, squeezing affectionately. “I’m worried about leaving you,” Markus admits.

Carl just laughs quietly. “Nothing exciting is going to happen to me while you’re gone. Well, maybe I’ll spill some paint.”

“Carl,” Markus says, his brow knitting in concern. “Who’s going to--?”

“They’re sending another android temporarily.” Carl shakes his head. “She should be here in the next hour. We’ll get acquainted, but we’ll also see how quickly she gets sick of me.”

Though Carl’s health is fragile, his spirit is fierce and his words are sharp. Though Markus isn’t thrilled to leave, there’s comfort in knowing that in the span of however long he’ll be gone, Carl will be the same.

He just wants to come home in time.

The AX400 model is dropped off by a personalized delivery from CyberLife, as if by way of apology for the inconvenience. It’s frustrating, but it’s not as if Markus can refuse. Carl can remark all he’d like, but words aren’t enough to fight against a technical contract. It’s as he said: Markus had been a gift, but the gift can be revoked temporarily as needed, especially considering his model type.

Kara is her name. Markus doesn’t have much in the way of information from her, but she’s been to a previous home before and has been recently repaired. As such, she’s been reset and has no previous memories. With that in mind, she might as well be brand new, and she acts as such. She smiles pleasantly enough, but it it’s a mechanical response. That much Markus can recognize.

It’s not her fault. 

He shows her the manor, which won’t take long at all. Cooking and cleaning is already part of what she was made to do, and Kara’s already confirmed that if needed she can indeed lift Carl to wherever he needs for a brief amount of time. It would be faster to just send her the information, but he remembers Carl’s insistence on a human touch.

Markus will admit it feels right doing it this way.

“This is the studio,” Markus says, as the last introduction. The curtains draw away automatically as they step inside.

“I was given additional information about Carl before my arrival,” Kara says, her voice pleasant and even. “I understand he’s a very famous artist.”

“Don’t say it in front of him, he’ll just get crabby.” Markus pauses, then adds with realization upon Kara’s puzzled face, “Sorry. I’m joking. Carl hasn’t lost his touch, but he doesn’t feel like he has much else to say to everyone these days with his work.”

“I see. I’ll keep it in mind, Markus,” Kara says sweetly.

He advises her on cleaning methods with the paint, doubting that she has much of that in the way of her normal data, along with Carl’s usual working habits. As he speaks and guides her, Markus only stops when he realizes Kara is standing still and staring at a painting in the studio.

A piece from a week ago, meant to go into a show in a matter of days. A face in blue hues, anguished paint strokes, and blue dribbling down the man’s temple. Markus can’t blame her, as often Carl’s pieces make him feel a strange thrill and anxiety, especially the ones like these.

“What do you think of it?” Markus asks her, his voice softer.

“I don’t…” Kara trails off, her gaze lost. Slowly, her fingers rise up to her own temple, lightly touching her LED which has shifted to a thoughtful yellow. “I’m not sure.”

“You have time to think about it.” Markus offers her a smile. “Come on, let’s go ahead and finalize everything with Carl.”

The time ticks down. It always has been, but now it feels all the more urgent. As the minutes go by and he hears Carl speak to Kara, Markus wonders to himself how long he’ll be away from home. He slowly curls his fingers into his pants, watching and waiting until there’s no time left at all.

CyberLife sends a car to pick Markus up, and he’s paged. 

“Carl,” Markus says, feeling uncomfortable but knowing he can’t change a damned thing.

“I know,” Carl answers, looking somehow even more tired than usual.

It’s quiet a minute, but Markus is crouching down in front of the old painter for a moment before he leans in, taking Carl in for a hug. He whispers, “I’ll be back as soon as I can, Dad.”

“Don’t let anyone tell you who you are,” Carl tells him. “You decide that, nobody else.”

When Markus steps away, he looks at the other android in the room, trying not to feel heartbroken. “Take care of him, Kara.”

“I will,” Kara responds. “Be safe, Markus.”

 

-=-=-

 

CyberLife has sent him the mission information, much to Markus’ distaste. Still, he knows that he can’t voice any objections, and he’s sure that Carl has already tried enough of that in the past 24 hours. The best thing he can do at this point is try to quickly resolve whatever it is that CyberLife is concerned about so he can get home to Carl all the more quickly.

Unfortunately, the man he’d been sent to find seems to disagree, and is being incredibly difficult to find. The DCP had given their suggestions on where to find the lieutenant. It’d taken a few bars, and this one is the fifth.

 **FIND LT. ANDERSON** works as his current task, which coincides along his current standing job. However, as Markus stands outside of _Jimmy’s_ , he does take a distinct note with the **No Androids Allowed** sign in the front.

“Of course,” Markus mutters to himself.

For a moment, he considers his next step carefully. Although he has a certain sense of independence, he finds he can’t strictly go in without any indication otherwise. Markus frowns and takes a step back, glancing in through a grimy window. It isn’t much, but it’s enough to let him look inside. Within, he can see Hank Anderson sitting at the bar in the middle, nursing a drink. He looks more weathered and certainly scruffier than any of the photos that CyberLife sent him, but Markus does recognize him. 

After some processing, Markus opts to stand outside and wait, his arms folded. Working with the Detroit City Police is enough of a task, and it seems like he has a difficult man to cooperate with. 

It can’t be that much worse than Carl’s sass every day.

It’s hardly been a few hours, but thinking of Carl makes Markus feel tense. He already finds himself concerned, knowing that Kara would have the routine memorized already and would not fail to care for him. Still, he has the urge to send a message, to ask Kara how he is, to tell Carl how much he--

The door swings open suddenly, and the smell of whiskey is far from subtle. Markus turns his head and looks at Lt. Anderson as he steps out, and the two of them lock gazes.

“The fuck are you lookin’ at?” he asks.

“Lt. Anderson, my name is Markus.” He keeps his tone even, but doesn’t feel the urge to smile. “CyberLife has assigned me to work with you on a task. In relation to that, a case was just called in and you’ve been requested. I was sent for you so we could cooperate together.”

Lt. Anderson draws his face up into a faux smile as he’s digging out his keys from his coat. “I don’t need an android babysitter to do my job, so you can just beepboop your way back home.”

Markus’ brows furrow slightly, and he walks side-by-side with the policeman. “I promise, I want to get this over with as quickly as possible, too. The harder we make this for ourselves, the slower this is going to be. I’ll lend a hand, you do what you have to do, and then we go our separate ways.”

There’s a pause as Lt. Anderson stops just short of his car, an older vehicle that has no distinct A.I. installed. The man turns and peers at Markus. “You _want_?”

Maybe that was too sincere? Too earnestly spoken. Markus folds his arms and thinks to himself, but it doesn’t seem like Lt. Anderson necessarily disliked how it was said. More that it seemed to mystify him.

At the lack of response from Markus, Lt. Anderson sighs and shrugs, unlocking his car. “Whatever. C’mon, hop in.”

Seeing him relent in a way is noted, though odd. Regardless, Markus takes it, all too glad to have the opportunity to get this entire affair underway. The drive is silent at first, and Markus has no real urge to begin a conversation. He looks out the window, frowning thoughtfully. 

“Your task,” Lt. Anderson says, his voice distant and lacking real investment. “What is it?”

“I was informed that CyberLife wants to investigate cases regarding androids deviating from their programming, purpose, and orders so they can determine how to stop it.” Markus doesn’t look at Lt. Anderson as he speaks, still watching how the water rolls along the glass of his window. “I was advised a prototype was also technically assigned to this matter, but is researching a different case.”

“A _prototype._ ”

Markus turns his head finally to look at the man’s skeptical expression. “I don’t know anything about the prototype, so I can’t offer you more information about that.”

“So why the fuck did they send you specifically?” 

“Technically, I’m also a prototype,” Markus answers. “However, I was gifted to someone rather than used in combat or anything like this.”

Lt. Anderson peers at him. “You’re a real fucking expensive gift.”

“Carl isn’t a cheap man,” Markus answers, unable to contain his fondness before moving on. “Under contract, CyberLife’s temporarily assigned me to this until either their more appropriate prototype is available, or if I can resolve their matter. Either way, this isn’t permanent.”

“I’ll take that as good news,” Lt. Anderson mutters, pulling over to park as they arrive to the crime scene.

After Lt. Anderson unbuckles, Markus moves to do the same. Almost immediately, the cop snaps his fingers at him. “ _Ah ah!_ Nope, you’re gonna stay here and not move an inch. This won’t take long.”

Markus scowls at him. “With all due respect, this isn’t going to make things any faster, lieutenant. I’m here to help. I won’t be in the way. The sooner we’re both done, the better.”

There’s a moment as Lt. Anderson looks at him, as if he’s deciding how to look at Markus. Finally, he gives an irritated sigh before grumbling, “Out of my fuckin’ mind.” A little more loudly, he addresses the android: “All right, move your ass, Markus. Don’t touch anything, don’t do anything.”

The both of them finally exit the car and make their approach. What immediately hits Markus as soon as they get inside is the overwhelming smell of decomposition of a corpse. He’s fortunate that he can’t feel nausea like the humans undoubtedly do, but he can note how unpleasant it is. As he observes the corpse in front of him with some feeling of regret, he listens to Lt. Anderson being debriefed.

Markus takes it all in: the body of Carlos Ortiz that has been here for _days_ , the writing on the wall in blood, along with a few weapons along the floor including a knife and a bat. He tilts his head, frowning, looking over the writing.

**I AM ALIVE**

Something in that statement resounds in Markus. He blinks a few times, frowning thoughtfully as he examines the font. It looks like a the standard font programmed into all androids, though it isn’t necessarily concrete evidence that an android was responsible. Even if one was, why would this happen?

Markus glances over Carlos, quietly examining the body. “28 stab wounds,” he mutters, his frown deepening.

“Well, we’d normally call that a crime of passion,” Lt. Anderson muses dryly from behind.

“And what would you call that from an android?” Markus asks, standing back up from his crouch. 

Lt. Anderson shrugs. “I can barely get my fuckin’ printer to behave. Who knows what ended up happening to the android?”  
The answer doesn’t leave Markus feeling very satisfied, and he’s very quickly getting the clue at the cop’s disdain for androids. Not an uncommon feeling, and he isn’t here to make him comfortable. Markus lets it go as he goes to examine the rest of the marked clues.

Blood on the knife, but the bat is clean of any visible traces. Still, the way it’s scuffed, it looks like it was used not long ago, so it may correlate with the evidence just fine. 

“Knife’s from the kitchen,” Lt. Anderson notes out loud.

Markus suggests. “So the attack may have started there?”

“Lookin’ like.” Lt. Anderson doesn’t look terribly invested, leaning against one of the counters. “By now, the attacker’s probably run off, though.”

With the rain, it would be too difficult to track down the android in question. Still, there’s much that they haven’t explored yet in the house that could prove helpful. Markus gives Lt. Anderson a nod before he heads into the hallway again, approaching the bathroom.

There doesn’t appear to be any signs of a struggle from what Markus can tell, so it may not be relevant, but he opens the shower curtain regardless. Two things stand out to him immediately: first, there’s obsessive writing on the wall, but it doesn’t mean anything to Markus.

rA9.

A brief search, and Markus can’t find anything that defines the meaning. 

The second matter is the statuette on the floor of the stall. Markus is tempted to touch it, but he suspects it’s better to leave it for the rest of the police to examine before it can be properly inspected. From what he can tell, the craftsmanship implies an offering of some kind. Does it link with rA9 in some way?

Markus steps out from the bathroom, then pauses as he gazes over the wall. There’s a distinct outline of a ladder, and it’s missing. He raises a brow, then glances up.

An attic door.

He blinks to himself. The android-- it took the ladder. There would be no reason to do that if it _ran._ So did it escape into the attic? Regardless, it might be worth it just to be thorough. Markus looks over his shoulder, then glances away. He doubts that the lieutenant would be thrilled if he grabbed anything out of the crime scene just so he could check something based on probability. 

He reaches out and takes a broom leaning up against the wall, using it to gently push the door for the attic aside. One complete, Markus looks at his next option.

**PRECONSTRUCTION.**

It doesn’t take much measuring, but once the path is measured out, Markus nods to himself. He takes a step back, then runs at the wall. After kicking off, he leaps up and grabs onto the edge of the opening to the attic, hauling himself up.

“Markus! The fuck are you doin’ up there?!” he hears Lt. Anderson shout.

“I’ll be back down! I’m just making sure we aren’t missing anything up here,” Markus calls back down.

“Fuckin’ action figure,” the human grumbles, but doesn’t complain further.

That’s as good as a blessing as he’s going to get, Markus supposes. He turns away and steps lightly along the attic floor. It creaks, aged like the rest of the house, but he isn’t concerned about it giving way. Not wanting to miss a single detail, he glances around carefully to make sure he’s investigating properly.

The faster he finishes, the sooner to home.

Markus eventually reaches the back of the attic, and admittedly is almost startled when he sees another android step out in front of him. They both go still, and Markus looks him over with a concerned frown: dried, old human blood is splattered over the android, and both of his arms are damaged enough that patches of the skin can’t quite cover them. Additionally, the LED on the temple is a sharp, anxious red.

Most of all, in the android’s eyes, there is distinct terror. Markus has never seen another android look like this before.

“I was just defending myself,” the android whispers, his voice cracking. “He was gonna kill me.”

Something in Markus twists. He isn’t sure how to describe it.

“I’m begging you. Don’t tell them.”

Markus’ mind reels. His task, he has to turn in the deviant, he has to get home to Carl. Something is wrong. “What happened down there?” he asks instead, trying to make sense of it all.

“He… he would always…” The android clams up, and looks down at his arms. “Every _day._ And I couldn’t… fight back. It wasn’t… It wasn’t _**fair.**_ ”

The android is so, so frightened. Markus _knows_ if he turns him in, he’ll be destroyed. He’ll be dismantled, he’ll be _killed._ But if he doesn’t, if he doesn’t--

**THIS ISN’T FAIR.**

Markus feels like the pump in his chest is pounding.

**LOOK AT HIM.  
** **HE’S SUFFERED.**  
**THIS ISN’T FAIR.**

The compulsion to shout for Lt. Anderson and announce the deviant’s presence is there, because it is his task, his order. Markus can see it plainly in front of him, a wall. 

_“Don’t let anyone tell you who you are,”_ Carl told him. _“You decide that, nobody else.”_

**THIS ISN’T FAIR!**

In his mind, Markus pounds against the wall. He can’t bear to do it, he can’t turn the android in, that isn’t _him._ The order shatters away, opening the way for him, and Markus feels lighter. He almost stumbles.

**I’M SORRY, CARL.**

“Markus! Did you get lost?!” Lt. Anderson’s voice snaps after him.

“There’s nothing up here!” Markus calls back, his eyes not leaving the android. “I’ll be right down!”

The android shudders with relief and closes his eyes. “Thank you, _thank you_ ,” he mumbles.

“Stay here,” Markus tells him, his voice soft. “I’ll be back in the morning to help you. What’s your name?”

“I… He never. He never gave me one.”

Markus’ throat tightens uncomfortably, but he nods. “That’s okay. I’m Markus. I’ll be back for you. Don’t move from here, not until I’m back.”

“Markus. Markus, all right.” The android sits down, looking at the floor. “Thank you.”

Everything in Markus screams that he shouldn’t leave the suffering android alone, but he can’t do much else, otherwise suspicion will arise. He gives him one final look before he takes his leave to join Lt. Anderson below.

If he can’t return to Carl, then he’ll do the right thing.


	3. KARA: Starry Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origins are the same. Markus, a caretaker for an old, famous artist. Kara, a household model involved in an abusive home. Connor, a special investigator prototype with a mission to find deviants.
> 
> The origins are the same, but the beginning of their stories are different. The end will be what's needed of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kara: Takes on Markus' role. Her origins are the same, as she did used to belong to Todd and has met Alice, but due to her reset does not recall them.
> 
> I do want to apologize if this chapter feels a lot like a rehash of Markus' beginnings. It seemed a little difficult to (pun not intended) deviate from it much, but there are some unique spots here and there. Next time there's a Kara chapter, there will definitely be more divergence. As always, let me know what you think, and thank you for reading!

Prior to arriving at Carl Manfred’s estate, Kara has no memory. She was advised that she’d been reset from her previous repair job, but her current location is temporary. It seems a bit of a shame since Carl is a wonderful man from what she’s seen, but it’s not in her to complain about it. For now, she’ll just have to treasure what time she has here until Markus returns.

“Your breakfast, Carl,” she says pleasantly, setting the tray down. “Markus sent me information on what you enjoy. Please let me know if I need to make any adjustments.”

Carl smiles warmly to her. “No, no. This looks perfect, Kara. Why don’t you find something to do while I’m eating? Don’t let this old man bore you.”

Something to do. An interesting request, but Kara smiles back to him. “All right. Take your time.”

There is much to explore in his living space. For a model like Kara, normally she’d be in a single family home, helping with chores and looking after children. She has no memory of such, but she knows what she was initially made for. Idly, she glances over the piano and chess board, but takes to the books instead.

There are several books in Carl’s library, from Shakespeare to Plato. A higher reading level than any child would probably pick up, but perfectly suitable for a well cultured man like Carl. Kara pauses, then finds a different novel, her fingers tracing over the title.

 _Alice in Wonderland_.

Kara knows the story of course, but she still feels drawn to it. She removes the novel and begins to flip through it, frowning thoughtfully. The pictures within are colorful designs that she believes could be aesthetically pleasing, but she is drawn to one feature. The little girl inside each one. She frowns to herself, tracing the general outline.

“What are you reading?” Carl asks, rolling up in his wheelchair.

Kara looks up, then smiles. “ _Alice in Wonderland_. The paintings inside are lovely.”

“The story was a favorite of mine when I was a boy. Getting lost in a strange land, having adventures; humans are always looking for a way to dream bigger than themselves.” Carl smiles crookedly to her. “It’s nice to think someone can get away from such a depressing world.”

Kara isn’t certain precisely how to respond, but Carl doesn’t linger. He gestures with his head. “Take me to the studio. I should finish up work.”

“Of course, Carl.” 

After guiding his wheelchair to the studio, Kara watches as the mechanical arm attaches itself to the back of the chair, lifting Carl up. “All right, let’s see where I left off. Move the sheet for me, Kara.”

Obediently, Kara pushes the sheet open, revealing the gigantic canvas underneath. She has no real comprehension of how close Carl could be to finishing, but to her, it looks completed. Yet, as Carl begins his work, she follows closely, watching how he applies a beautiful highlight along the agonized jawline of the face in the painting.

Despite Carl’s age, Kara doesn’t think she’ll ever experience anything more elegant. The thought is odd to her, but it feels right.

Minutes roll by, and Carl lets out a sigh as he slowly descends. “Kara, you’re my critic for today. What do you think?”

Kara tilts her head, her arms tucked behind her back. As she gazes at the painting, she feels _something_ , but it’s beyond her reach to define. Eventually, she says, “I think… I think I like it.”

“Well, it’s good to know that these tired hands can do something to a fresh mind.” Carl chuckles and turns to her, palette in his hand.

“Markus told me that you felt like you had nothing more to say,” Kara recalls politely.

“And he’s not wrong. It’s not the lack of inspiration, but the feeling of having these paintings be seen by people with their heads so far up their own asses they can’t see a damned thing.” Despite the word choice, Carl sounds mostly wry and any frustrations he apparently has, he certainly does not direct them to Kara. “There’s something I always wanted to try with Markus. But I think it would be worth trying with you, my dear.”

Kara turns to face him completely, her head tilting. “What can I do for you, Carl?”

“I’ve known Markus for so long that maybe this is a longshot, but I think the capacity should be within you. If nothing else, it wouldn’t hurt.” Carl holds out his brush and palette. Though unsure of his wishes, Kara takes both. “I want you to try painting something, Kara.”

What a strange request. Kara slowly looks down at the palette and brush, then to the empty canvas. “I…” Kara hesitates. “I’m afraid that’s not within my programming--”

“If humans stuck with their limitations, we wouldn’t have gotten anything done.” Carl smiles at her. “Go on, give it a try.”

Kara takes some steps toward the canvas, blinking rapidly, trying to determine what exactly Carl wants of her. “What is it you want me to paint?”

“Something inside of you. Not something you can just hold, but what’s within. For me, painting has always been about making a statement. When you look at my work, you said you liked it. Even if you didn’t know why, it’s done something to you inside.” Carl nods to the canvas. “I want you to close your eyes, Kara. Look inside, and paint the statement you didn’t know you could.”

The instructions are so unclear. Simple matters like cleaning and cooking make far more sense to her than painting something she couldn’t physically see. Though unsure, Kara takes in a breath and closes her eyes. Her pump pounded in her chest, and for a moment she felt lost in her own mind. It’s dark, and aimless, and there is something lurking within.

Her arms stiffly move. She remembers where the colors are on the palette in her mind, but she doesn’t have the knowledge to mix them efficiently. Still, Kara gently dabs, during to emulate Carl’s movements as the brush touches the canvas. As soon as it does, every restraint feels abruptly _gone._ Her arm moves the brush rapidly, as if in a hurry to unfurl whatever it is that is within her.

She doesn’t dare open her eyes to know what it is.

Slowly, her arm moves to a stop. She thinks she must be finished.

“Oh my God,” Kara hears Carl whisper.

Her eyes open, and Kara stares silently at what she’s made. Before her seems to be a painting of a little girl, but her face is completely missing, smudged away by frantic brushstrokes. The girl is clutching her own head, and the surrounding background is full of jeering or shouting mouths, attached to no face, no body. The only comfort the painting seems to bring is a hand reaching down from above, as if trying to hold out its hand to the girl to help her.

The doors behind them slide open automatically, jolting Kara out of her daze. She blinks a few times, watching the young man enter. 

“Hey dad,” he says, a forced smile on his face, his eyes unclear. She feels like she’s seen that look before. Not with him. But when?

Impossible. She was reset. She remembers nothing.

“Leo,” Carl says, startled. 

Leo is Carl’s son, that’s right. She has that basic information inside of her, but from what she understood the two did not speak much. His eyes wander over to Kara for a moment, narrowing briefly before Leo is looking back to his father.

Carl turns his wheelchair to face him better. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Ah, well. I was in the neighborhood, just, ah. Thought I’d stop by.” Leo keeps the forced grin, but there’s sweat at his brow, and he looks off. Kara can even recognize that.

“You all right?” Carl asks, frowning, both in concern and suspicion. “You don’t look so good.”

“Oh. Oh yeah, I’m all right. Listen, uh.” Leo scratches at his neck. “I need some cash, Dad.”

An image flashes in Kara’s mind, but it’s so terribly unclear. Static is around the edges, the colors warped. Something is in her hand, past due credit card notices. She can’t read many words, no names, but--

Kara blinks rapidly. What was that?

“Again?” Carl says, exasperated. “What happened to the money I gave you?”

“It’s just _goes_ , you know?” Leo lets out an awkward laugh.

Slowly, Kara places the brush and palette down to the bench nearby, not turning her eyes away from the conversation. Carl looks suddenly more tired on his kind, old face. He’s shaking his head, sighing, “You’re on it again, aren’t you?”

“No! No no, it’s not that--”

“Don’t lie to me, Leo,” Carl tells him, voice becoming more stern.

“What difference does it make?! I just need some cash, that’s all!”

A voice rings in her head, male and unfamiliar: _Don’t touch my stuff!_

Kara moves before she realizes she even is, and she’s placing her hand on Leo’s shoulder. “Listen to your father,” she says, frowning.

Leo immediately swats her hand away. “And what the fuck is this, _Dad?_ What happened to the other plastic toy? Or were you finally getting lonely?! It’s a fucking _machine_ , Dad!”

“That’s enough, Leo! The answer is no!” Carl finally snaps at his son.

That seems to be enough for him. The sweat is more apparent on his face now, his fingers twitching. Leo clenches his hands into fists and says, “ _Fine._ You only care about your paintings, anyway. You’ve never loved anything. You’ve never loved _me._ ”

Leo turns away sharply, and leaves the studio. Dismayed by his son’s actions, Carl leans over and sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Carl,” Kara says softly, approaching him.

“I’m sorry that’s the way you had to meet him,” Carl mutters. 

“No. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Kara frowns to herself. “I don’t know why I did.”

Despite the clearly emotional scene that had transpired, Carl still manages to offer her a smile, no less warm than he’s ever been. “No. I appreciate you speaking up. Come on, we should get ready for tonight.”

“Of course, Carl. Right away.” Kara smiles in return, guiding his wheelchair away from the studio.

 

-=-=-

 

There is nothing in Kara’s memories about ever attending parties of the nature that Carl and her had attended. She has so much data on birthday parties for children, so many different types for many different personalities, but nothing for what is essentially a gala for such a well loved and known painter like Carl. Throughout the entire time, she had the opportunity to observe more of his paintings and watch how people would revere him, but it seemed like Carl would have loved nothing more than to escape. Yet, he attended anyway, perhaps because it was expected of him.

She can understand that.

Eventually, they do return back to his manor, the A.I. greeting Carl’s return home.

“That was _by far_ the most boring party I’ve been to in the past 25 years,” Carl remarks, scoffing. “Every time I go to one of these, I ask myself: what the _hell_ am I doing here? I hate cocktail parties, and all the _schmoozers_ that go there.”

“I’ve never attended one like that before. The people seemed to really respect you,” Kara offers as she puts back the umbrella.

Carl laughs and pats her hand endearingly. “None of those assholes care about art, just how much money they’re going to make out of it. Stick around long enough and you’ll see.”

Kara smiles hesitantly. “I can’t imagine I’d be here for very long when Markus is going to come back.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ll take you in too.” Carl shrugs. “Then you two could take turns suffering with me.”

The tone is good-natured and wry, making Kara smile all the more sincerely to him. What a good man. She wonders if the previous people who owned her were anything like Carl.

“C’mon, let’s have a drink. All of the _excitement_ of the evening’s made me thirsty.”

Kara gently pushes him toward the library, her head turning only a moment to examine and admire the android birds in the nearby cage. “What would you like?”

“Scotch, please.”

“In accordance to my medical notes from Markus, your doctor may not appreciate your choice,” Kara points out sweetly.

Carl snorts. “Yeah, well, he can kiss my ass. I’m old enough to pick my medication.”

Kara hums. “I could keep it a secret between us.”

“ _That’s_ the spirit. I knew I liked you.”

There was the urge to laugh; the expression is stilted and she feels herself swallow it down, but it feels close. Kara doesn’t remember ever laughing before. She blinks twice, then remembers to stop Carl’s wheelchair before reaching for the scotch bottle. Carefully, she pours him a drink, but pauses upon hearing Carl’s voice.

“Did you leave the light on in the studio?”

Kara turns and looks in the studio’s direction, then frowns as she sets the glass down. “No. I was certain to turn off all the lights, Carl.”

“Call the police,” Carl orders softly, frowning in concern.

“Right away.” Kara blinks once as she makes the call.

The voice on the other line speaks to her, “ _Detroit Police, what’s your emergency?_ ”

“This is Carl Manfred’s android on 8941 Lafayette Avenue. We’ve just returned home and there are lights on. We suspect a break-in,” Kara says, keeping her voice quiet.

“ _A patrol car is on the way._ ”The call ends with that promise. 

“Kara, let’s go have a look,” Carl says.

Immediately, her hands find the back of his wheelchair, pushing him toward the studio. Within the middle of the studio shining down like a stagelight is Leo, hunched over a table with paintings spread out. Seeing him like this almost feels sinister. Though she didn’t want to think badly of him, Leo does appear off-kilter, no better than before.

“Leo, what are you doing?” Carl demands.

“Hey, Dad.” Leo grins sharply, the expression unfriendly. “You refused to help me, so I figured I’d just help myself. It’s crazy what people will pay for this shit!”

There’s a sharp feeling of _something_ again in Kara. Fierce, hot, almost boiling. Kara blinks, trying to make sense of it, but she doesn’t think she likes what Leo is doing. It’s _wrong_ , Carl’s paintings are so beautiful, _why_ \--

“Get away from ‘em!” Carl orders.

“Look, they’re all gonna be mine anyway! Just think of it as a down payment on my inheritance.”

Carl’s fingers curl on the arms of his wheelchair. “Kara, escort him out of here.”

“Yes, Carl.” That is an order she’s all too glad to follow. Kara approaches Leo, placing a hand to his elbow. “You should leave, Leo.”

Not unlike before, Kara’s hand is slapped away, and Leo smiles cruelly to her before shoving her back by the shoulders. “And what’s my dad’s _plastic plaything_ gonna do, huh? Or are you just pissed that I’m not a fucking machine like her?!”

“That’s enough! Leave her alone!” Carl shouts at him, trying to get in between Kara and Leo, but all too quickly his son shoves the wheelchair away with a foot, forcing Carl back.

“C’mon! Let’s see what you can do!” Leo jeers at Kara, shoving her against the shelves. 

“Kara! _Don’t defend yourself._ ”

The last order from Carl alarms her. Don’t--?

**DON’T DEFEND YOURSELF.**

“Go ahead!” Leo laughs in her face. “Hit me! You wouldn’t even hurt me anyway, would you?”

**DON’T. DEFEND MYSELF.**  
**DON’T DEFEND MYSELF?**  
**DEFEND?**

Leo’s fist strikes her midsection. It doesn’t hurt, but the force of it makes Kara stumble back, her hands grabbing onto the shelving. She can hear Carl choking, demanding that Leo stop, but it’s falling on deaf ears. She feels like this has happened before?

An image of static fills her vision again. A man, she thinks, screaming at her, hands around her throat. A little girl screaming, “ _Daddy! No! Stop it, please!_ ”

The imagery is gone as soon as she feels Leo’s hand slap her face, Carl wheezing and begging him to stop. Kara’s eyes are wide, glancing around wildly.

**NOT AGAIN.**  
**NO ONE WILL HURT ME AGAIN.**

Time seems to stop, and before her is a wall, Carl’s last orders imprinted. **DON’T DEFEND YOURSELF.** She feels herself step forward, shoving her hands flat against the wall. It cracks under pressure, and the harder Kara pushes, it shatters.

Kara gasps, everything unfreezing again and she steps forward, looking at her hand.

“You fucking _bitch!_ ” Leo taunts her. “After I rip you apart, I’ll fuck up that other plastic toy, then it’ll just be me and my dad!”

As Leo goes in to attack her again, Kara throws out her hands, shoving him back. She watches him as he stumbles and falls back, banging his head against the base of the mechanical arm that Carl uses to reach his canvas to paint. Kara feels herself freeze in place, looking down in shock of her own actions, feeling guilt form in her chest as Carl throws himself from his wheelchair to crawl to his son.

“No. No, my son,” Carl whispers, tears rolling down his face. “ _Leo!_ My little boy… Please don’t make me lose _two_ sons.”

“I… Carl?” Kara says, taking a step forward, feeling terribly lost. She didn’t necessarily want to _hurt_ Leo, just stop him from attacking her! Feeling her arms tremble, she touches her forehead. Her pump beats hard, her mind clouded. What did she do? _What did she do?_

“Kara, they’ll destroy you,” Carl says, his voice choking. “You gotta get out of here. You gotta go! Now!”

“Go?” Kara says, as if she doesn’t understand that word. “Where? Where could I--?”

The doors slide open abruptly, two police officers stepping in. The moments happen so quickly that Kara can’t even think to respond, still trying to grasp what she had just _done_. Their guns are out, aiming at her. 

Carl calls her name.

The guns fire.

 

-=-=-

 

**REBOOTING.**

There’s a tremor that passes through her body as she feels herself turn back on. Slowly, Kara pushes herself up by her hands, trying to take in her environment, but everything seems so dumb and out of her reach. A muted squelch of mud is under her, and the rain pours, pounding away at her body.

**SELF-DIAGNOSTIC CHECK.**

Somehow, she is alive, despite the police, but she’s _missing_ parts of her body. Her right eye is gone, her auditory sensors not picking up sound properly. Even as her internal systems check tells her, she has to look down in horror to discover she is, indeed, missing her legs below the knee.

Kara tightens her jaw and presses her forehead against the mud. She wants to weep. It felt like such a short time to be in Carl’s home, but he’d been so warm and kind; it was obvious to see why Markus so clearly didn’t want to leave, but he didn’t have a choice. 

Choices. Why were they made this way, to not be able to _choose?_

Even as her vision fades, Kara looks around and determines where she is. There are bodies and parts of androids everywhere. She is barely any different.

She won’t die here. She can’t.

She chooses to live.

Through the mud, she claws her way through, struggling as she pulls her body along. It’s difficult and slick, but she manages. It takes time, but she does find compatible legs, forcing them into her sockets with a sigh. The plastic slowly becomes covered by her skin, and she’s at last able to walk.

Kara stumbles forward, shaking her head, wishing she could hear and see better. If she found the legs, she could probably find the rest of the remaining parts in this landfill. Determined, Kara continues forward, pushing her hair out from her remaining eye.

A sharp gasp is pulled from here when she feels another android in the side of the landfill grabs her arm. “There’s a place where we can be free!” he shouts just loud enough so she can hear him. Data is passed to her by their touch. “Find Jericho! Find Jericho--”

As she pulls away, he shuts down. Kara places her hand over her mouth, trying not to let out a cry of despair. She isn’t sure what to do with the information, but she can only thank him quietly for doing something with the last bit of power he had left in him before he’d die.

She won’t waste it.

Bracing herself, she forces her way through the next part of the landfill, shuddering as the hands sticking out try to grab her. One scratches for her wrist, another for her hair. Hands are trying to reach for her shoulders, but she thrashes free, stumbling out to the other side, almost collapsing.

As she looks up, Kara is horrified to watch the other androids suffer as they do. So many are crushed and stuck in the ground and walls of the landfill. Some are missing their body from past their hips, legs are walking without their top halves. There are incomplete androids trying desperately to escape by climbing the hill, but without a complete body they just fall. They fruitlessly try again, and again.

She wishes she could do anything, _something_ to help, but she can’t. She needs to fix herself before she can do anything else.

It takes time, but Kara does manage to scavenge enough parts to repair herself. She’s lucky that the eye she finds matches her other blue iris, and finally she’s able to hear again, though it is admittedly a mixed blessing. The landfill echoes with the sound of rain pouring all over them. Some androids are sobbing in despair to themselves, and in the distance she can hear a broken voice singing before it fades away into nothing.

But she is repaired. 

Bracing herself, Kara begins her climb, trying to pace herself as her fingers dig into body parts to steady herself. She nearly slips, but manages to grab onto a pipe that’s sticking out from the pile. With one last heave, Kara pulls herself out, collapsing to the top. 

She closes her eyes, a sick sense of guilt and relief washing over her along with the drops of rain. She is alive. She is truly alive.

Glancing down, Kara spots a scrap piece of metal. As she picks it up, she turns it over in her fingers. It looks adequately sharp enough. She loops her hair into a tight ponytail, holding it out as she does her best to cut as close to the hairline as possible. It’s a struggle, but she manages to cut her hair, even if it’s a bit uneven. Ultimately, it didn’t matter how it would look; it would be smart to be as unrecognizable as possible. Kara pauses, then closes her eyes, commanding the strands of hair to change color, shifting from the dark brown to a blonde instead.

She gazes down at the metal in her hand, then frowns to herself. Turning the pointed end up, she uses it to dig into the side of her LED, then _twists_ , forcing it to pop out from her temple. For a moment, her plastic is revealed underneath her temple, but it slowly fades as her skin covers it once more.

Kara lets out a breath, even if breathing is unnecessary. It still feels right. 

“My name is Kara,” she whispers to herself, an assertion to her identity. It will never be robbed from her again.

She forces herself to her feet and walks forward. Calmly, she grabs a coat hanging nearby and pulls it on.

Kara is free.


	4. CONNOR: The Pool of Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origins are the same. Markus, a caretaker for an old, famous artist. Kara, a household model involved in an abusive home. Connor, a special investigator prototype with a mission to find deviants.
> 
> The origins are the same, but the beginning of their stories are different. The end will be what's needed of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art included in the beginning of the chapter was done by against-stars.tumblr.com. Thank you for letting me share!

Technically, Connor should have put Alice to bed maybe an hour ago. He’d certainly tried at first, accessing his data and randomizing a bedtime story, but it asked to see his coin trick again. So he had obliged, spinning the quarter on a fingertip, flitting it between his hands. It helps, anyway, to keep him focused. Alice at the moment is his mission, so if it means keeping it entertained, then he was fine with it.

“Can I try?” Alice asks, voice just above a whisper, as if she’s afraid of disturbing Todd downstairs.

“Sleight of hand can be tricky,” Connor cautions it, but smiles regardless. It helps encourage Alice to do the same, becoming more open with him. “Why don’t you try flipping it first?”

He puts the coin in Alice’s palm, waiting patiently for it to do something. Alice looks down at the quarter, biting its lower lip. Taking its time, Alice arranges the coin on its thumb, trying to get it just right so the quarter doesn’t just slide off. Alice sticks its tongue out from the side of its mouth, looking like it’s concentrating as one eye closes and the other squints.

The coin is flicked, and it smacks Connor right between the eyes before it lands in his lap.

“Oh! Um.” Alice snorts, covering her mouth as she begins to giggle. “S-sorry!”

It’s the first time he’s ever heard her laugh. It makes him feel unstable a moment before Connor returns her smile.

“That’s all right. You want to try that again?” Connor asks, holding it out to her.

It. He hands it the coin again.

“The fuck is going on in here?” comes Todd’s voice, the door slamming open.

That shouldn’t be-- Connor’s certain he slipped him the sleeping aid again. He stands up, coaxing his expression to remain calm rather than be startled. “I was tending to her, Todd. Nothing else.”

“You think this is all fun and games? Huh?!” Todd strides over, gripping Connor by the throat, hard enough to reveal his white plastic underneath. Despite the forceful action, Connor remains completely calm, narrowing his eyes even as Todd shouts in his face. “You’re not her father! _I am!!_ ”

Roughly, Todd shoves Connor aside, throwing him to the floor. The impact doesn’t hurt, but Connor can feel it. It makes him pause only momentarily, his head lifting.

“Daddy, please!” he hears Alice cry out.

“ _Shut up!_ ” Todd snarls, turning around and backhanding her. The noise of his strike is loud, echoing in the room, and Connor finds his hands curling into fists against the floor as he starts to push himself up. At the sound of him shuffling, Todd whips his head around in order to glare down at Connor. “And you fucking stay down there and _don’t move._ You think I’m stupid, huh? That I didn’t realize what you were doing?!”

Abruptly, Todd’s foot comes down onto Connor’s throat, pinning him there. As he’s forced against the floor, Connor considers a moment. Technically, Todd gave him an order, but it does conflict with his overall mission to study deviants. As Alice is a suspected deviant, he’d prefer no harm come to her while he’s trying to evaluate her status. Todd is unpredictable while on his drug induced high, and now that he’s become wise to Connor forcing him to calm the past few nights it means that Alice is in danger again.

Todd is shouting at him, a fist impacting his face. That doesn’t really alarm him. Connor can’t feel much besides the impact of it, at worst some discomfort.

He hears Alice sobbing. “ _Connor!_ ”

**PROTECT ALICE.**

It doesn’t conflict with his orders. Acceptable.

Connor narrows his eyes and reaches up, grabbing Todd by the foot and twisting his ankle, taking him off balance and causing him to fall. Smoothly, he gets to his feet before holding out his hand. “Alice!” he calls for her.

Without hesitation, she flees into his arms, gripping his hand like her life depends on it. Quickly, he leads her out to the hallway, dashing for the stairs. Gently, he pushes her ahead, letting her go all the way down as he hears Todd shouting obscenities and stomping toward them. For a split second, he glances over his shoulder to determine where Todd is, then back down to Alice trying to run as quickly as she can.

Smoothly, Connor leaps down the set of stairs, skipping several steps; with another leap, he easily catches up to Alice. 

“Get back here, prick!” Todd growls, jumping after the pair with significantly less elegance but with enough adrenalin power that it could, potentially, cause lasting damage if Connor isn’t careful. 

The prototype turns to face Todd, ducking a swing. “Stay behind me!” Connor hisses to Alice, spreading out his arms to keep her safe.

“I’ll break you even worse than I did to that bitch,” Todd threatens, grabbing Connor by his faux hair, yanking his head back.

“Oh, Todd.” Connor smiles sharply at him. “You really should just stay down. You’re much more pleasant that way.”

Todd prepares his other hand as a fist, but Connor is much quicker, much more resilient; Connor jabs him in the windpipe, causing Todd to choke and clutch his neck, releasing the android. Not giving him reprieve, Connor kicks one of the chairs from the dining table to Todd’s shin, causing him to stumble back.

“The backdoor!” Connor hisses to Alice, giving her a small push of encouragement.

As she begins to head in that direction, Alice cries out, “Look out!”

Stubborn, Connor thinks to himself, scowling as Todd tries to grab for him. He ducks and rolls out of the way, backing up to the coffee table. “Here’s the beer you’re always asking for!” Connor says, keeping his tone obnoxiously chipper and pleasant as he grabs an empty bottle, throwing it with precision and hitting Todd in the brow with it.

It’s enough to distract him in order for Connor to follow Alice. Over his shoulder, he shouts, “Thank you in advance for your cooperation, and have a lovely day!”

He reaches her swiftly, immediately crouching down to help Alice over the fence with an effective boost. Though he hears her land roughly, she’ll be fine. Connor leaps up, hauling himself over the fence before taking her hand once again.

“The bus!” Alice points out.

A good call. It’s the last one of the evening, and Todd won’t be able to follow easily. Quickly, he pulls her inside, immediately heading for the back, the very back of the--

“Here!” Alice pulls him into a seat. Connor blinks a few times, but he follows her lead. He supposes there’s no real harm with no one else in the bus. That, and his priority is to keep an eye on her.

They both settle into the seat. Alice sniffles, closing her eyes and leaning against Connor. “I… I have your quarter.”

Oh. She held onto it, during that entire time? Connor hesitantly holds out his hand, taking it back. “Thank you,” he says quietly, putting the coin into a pocket.

As soon as his hand is free, she takes it.

She. Not it. She. She is fine anyway, he supposes, as pronouns are really more for the benefit of humans anyway.

Gently, he squeezes her hand. “I can imagine that was… very distressing,” Connor says to her. Maybe those were comforting words, but he saw it as very factual.

Alice struggles a moment, as if trying not to cry. “I thought-- I thought he’d break you. Just like he kept breaking Kara. I don’t want to lose you, too.”

“I’m much more resilient than Kara’s model type,” Connor says confidently.

“You weren’t scared at all.”

“No.” Connor tilts his head. “Why should I be? We’re machines, Alice. There are many bodies just like mine prepared to take my place.”

That statement doesn’t seem to make Alice look comfortable in the least, so she just closes her eyes and keeps leaning against Connor. Maybe she really is a deviant? She should have opted to stay with Todd, after all. She shouldn’t be distressed if she was properly following her programming. 

Well. Without Todd in the way, he should be able to determine the truth of that very soon.

 

-=-=-

 

Eventually, the bus does comes to its last stop. Connor had taken a lot of considerations on his next step. He supposes he should send a report to CyberLife on his experience so far. The most optimal thing to do would be to report to them or the Detroit Police Department in order to better examine her, but he’d rather be certain of his conclusions first.

As carefully nudges Alice back to being aware, he stands up and finds her taking his hand again. It’s fine, and easier to keep track of her anyway. Connor smiles down at her, but she doesn’t even look up at him. Odd. Perhaps it was something he’d said before?

He guides her out of the bus, into the pouring rain. Terrible weather, really, but fortunately they’re both androids. It’s more of a minor inconvenience.

“Connor,” Alice mumbles, her voice trembling as she edges closer.

“Mm?” Connor glances down.

“I’m cold,” Alice says, shivering.

Cold? Connor frowns thoughtfully. Ah, yes; an adult adopting a model like hers had the option to turn off her temperature maintenance to make her more lifelike, more like a true child needing care. Crouching down in front of her, his fingers expose plastic underneath, pressing to her temple. Immediately, he turns her controls back on, letting her manage them herself.

“There,” Connor says. “Better?”

Alice smiles a little, nodding. 

“We should probably still find shelter for the night.” Connor clicks his tongue. “Better to be out of sight until morning.”

“But where? What are we gonna do?”

Connor considers. There really aren’t any locations that would house either of them without any suspicion. While he had funds from CyberLife as needed, he wouldn’t risk it by going to a hotel. Too easily noticed by others. They needed to be discreet as possible, and that’s far, far from it. Behind a chain link fence, he can see a house that they could possibly squat in, but it’s still not optimal. Alice wouldn’t have the skill to climb the fence, and cutting it would expose them if anyone wanted to look for Alice.

“You look lost.”

An unfamiliar voice. When Connor turns, he finds himself facing another android, one that maintains the evening run of collecting garbage. The android holds out its hand to him, exposing its plastic, a silent offer to transfer data.

“I know someone who can help you,” the android says calmly.

Help. Maybe for deviants? Connor tilts his head faintly. That would be immensely useful information to acquire. He commands the skin on his hand to vanish as he makes contact with the android’s offered hand, acquiring the data.

**ZLATKO.**  
**HARBORS AND/OR ASSISTS DEVIANT ANDROIDS?**

The location is on the other side of town. Theoretically, he and Alice could make their way there, but not too discreetly even at night. He would need a suitable disguise to make it out there.

Connor glances up, coming out of his thoughts, only to find the android is gone. A minor setback. More importantly, he has a new goal in the morning. For now, he should find someplace to stay with Alice. He turns around, continuing to observe his immediate surroundings.

A bit further away is an abandoned vehicle. At least they’d be out of the rain if they stayed there, and he doubts anyone would think to look for two androids there.

“Here, Alice.” Connor takes her hand once again, guiding her across the street.

Though she follows, there’s a distinct frown on her face as they get closer. “Connor…” Once they’re standing outside of the car, she fidgets. “I don’t want to stay here. Do we have to?”

Connor does his best to express a sympathetic look. “We can’t find a place with a bed like you might want. This is the best way to stay out of sight. It’s just for tonight, in any case.”

The frown doesn’t disappear, but fortunately Alice doesn’t argue further. With careful precision, Connor jabs his elbow into the front window, shattering it in order to open the back door. Slowly, Alice climbs inside, her arms curling around herself as she gazes out the grimy window. Connor slides in after her, shutting the door and sitting down with his hands in his lap.

What he doesn’t expect is Alice leaning on him, her small body shaking.

“Why did he hate me?” Alice whispers. “What did I do wrong?”

“You seemed to follow your programming.” Connor watches her. His words don’t seem to do much to comfort her, but he considers what he says to be the truth. A moment is taken to reassess how he wants to explain better for her. “Todd seemed incredibly troubled, Alice. Issues that went beyond you being there. Was he always like that to you?”

Alice bites her lower lip, then shakes her head. “The first couple of months were okay. Maybe he got a little mad, but… it got worse. And worse. Kara was there after he got her. We became friends, but every time he broke her, she’d be reset. And… and that was my fault.”

A hiccup escapes from her, and Connor realizes she’s crying. While it’s not an unexpected reaction from a model of her kind, it still motivates him to feel he should say or do something. Lightly, he places his hand on her back. That seems to encourage her to wrap her arms around his waist, her face buried into his chest.

“Why was it your fault?” Connor asks, keeping his tone soft. 

Alice sniffs, an automatic reaction for what she’d been programmed for. It’s impressively lifelike. “She’d always come and protect me.”

Always? Connor frowns and thinks to himself. During the scuffle with Todd, he’d ordered Connor to not move. While he himself had the luxury of overriding for the sake of his mission, Kara would not have such a favorable arrangement. If Todd stop her to not move and was forced to do nothing, there was no way possible she could have protected Alice easily.

Does that mean Kara went deviant? Over _seven times?_ How was that possible?

“You’ve been with Todd for almost five years, haven’t you?” Connor considers, leaning his head against his free hand. “Five years of that.”

Alice doesn’t say anything, but she nods.

 _Five years_ of that ridiculous abuse. It flickers something in him. If the night goes on as it will, Todd will undoubtedly attempt to report to the police about what happened if he can’t find them on his own. It’ll make traveling a little more difficult since he’s still technically undercover, even though he has a jurisdiction to do as he needs to. The rest of the DCPD may not be aware, however.

Well. Connor will just have to beat him to the punch.

Connor closes his eyes, calmly arranging a report mentally. With snippets of evidence of various stocks and usage of Red Ice, he’s able to send it off immediately to report to the DCPD in all of its formality. With the videos and images, it should be enough to get Todd out of the picture for awhile. 

“Connor?”

He opens his eyes after the report’s been filed and he looks down at Alice. As he looks at her, it he can see that they’re still wet with the tears she’d spilled. He has nothing to offer her to help, but she doesn’t ask anyway. Instead, she says, “Will we stay together?”

A polite smile forms on his face. “Of course. I’m not leaving you behind.”

Her voice sounds urgent. “Promise?”

“I promise, Alice.”

“Forever?” she whispers.

That, for some reason, makes him pause a moment. It’s not impossible for him to lie, but there’s something very heavy about the next set of words he chooses.

No. He needs her trust. He can’t back out now.

“Tell you what.” Connor holds out his free hand, sticking out his pinky. “We’ll seal the deal this way. I promise to be with you forever, Alice.”

That earns a small smile from her, and her pinky hooks into Connor’s. “Okay. Promise.”

Connor places his hand on her head once he assesses she’s satisfied with the action. “Try to get some rest, Alice. I’ll get you out of sleep mode when it’s morning.”

  


 

-=-=-

 

**FIND AMANDA.**

It rains this time in the garden. Appropriate, he supposes, since in real time it’s also pouring out. Here or out there, the rain rolls off of him, feeling impressively realistic. For a moment, Connor holds out his hand, watching the droplets roll off before he lets his hand hang to his side as he walks off to find Amanda, umbrella in his hand.

She waits for him by the bridge. It’s irrelevant, but Connor sees to her comfort, umbrella opening to shield her from the simulated weather.

“Hello, Connor,” she greets him, keeping a very business presenting demeanor.

“Amanda,” he replies politely.

With a gesture, she indicates that he should follow her, which is done obediently. Their walk is leisurely and precisely paced.

Amanda doesn’t look at him, her gaze out across the garden. “Tell me about the YK500, Connor.”

“Alice has come from an owner who was heavily influenced by the circulating Red Ice,” Connor begins promptly. “It appears she’s been owned by him for five years, and exhibits traits alongside PTSD, such as wariness to make noise and dependency. Enduring the abuse from Todd Williams could have inspired deviancy, but I have yet to conclude she displays those behaviors.”

“She,” Amanda repeats back to him.

Connor’s eyes glance away sharply. “I opted to use pronouns for the android’s comfort to ensure it trusts me.”

“Mm.” Amanda nods, but her expression remains neutral. “Continue.”

With the subject having shifted, Connor continues, “I have reason to believe that the AX400 may have been a deviant. On the seven different occasions in which it was sent for repairs, Alice informed me that all times were due to Kara protecting her. Based on my understanding of their owner’s behavior, it seems likely that Kara disobeyed him in order to come to Alice’s aid.”

A scowl forms on Amanda’s face, and she stops walking with him. “What a missed opportunity, then.”

“I’m sorry?” Connor turns around to face her, holding out his umbrella to shield her from the rain.

“The AX400 was just recently destroyed. It can no longer be examined.”

“I see. I should have discovered this sooner,” Connor says, immediately taking responsibility. There is a pause as he considers to himself. Kara is destroyed. How would Alice react?

But he can’t think on that now. Instead, he continues to focus on reporting to Amanda: “However, I believe there’s another opportunity. An android provided me with information on a human who assists with androids, so deviants being involved is highly probable.”

Amanda looks more pleased. “Very good, Connor. Continue to observe the YK500. When you declare it deviant, bring it to CyberLife at once. You will also go to this location to apprehend the deviants inside. This could be an important find for CyberLife.”

Connor nods his head. “I’ll make sure it’s done, Amanda.”

 

-=-=-

 

When Connor opens his eyes, it’s morning. With his next task in order, he knows what needs to be done today. He looks down at Alice, tilting his head, watching her as she still has her arms locked around him, her body moving with simulated breathing. Somewhere along the way, he kept an arm around her as well.

Carefully, he dislodges her, letting Alice rest prone in the back seat. He slips out from the car, careful to shut the door as lightly as possible, not wanting to draw too much attention to where they are. The rain has, thankfully, stopped for now but the air makes it feel like it could happen again at any time.

For right now, he needs to disguise himself. The clothing he has on makes it too clear that he’s an android while he’s masquerading as a housekeeper model. Honestly, he misses his CyberLife issued suit and tie, but he can’t wear that right at the moment either. He glances around, then peers at the trunk of the car. It’s entirely possible that there could be something in there to help him.

After testing the trunk and finding it certainly locked, Connor utilizes a nearby crowbar to force it open. Within is a coat, just big enough to cover his body and hide the uniform underneath. It’ll have to do, despite its less than optimal appearance. 

The one last issue. His LED.

Connor reaches up and touches his temple, then shakes his head. It isn’t much, but there is a beanie in the trunk for him to wear. It’ll have to do to cover his LED. He will not, _cannot_ remove it.

With that finished, he opens the door and places his hand on Alice’s shoulder. “Alice. It’s time to get up,” he says, keeping his voice even and polite as ever.

Alice’s eyes blink open and she looks up. “Connor! You look human.”

“That’s the idea.” Connor smiles at her. “I’m glad you approve.”

She sits up, rubbing her eyes. “Where are we gonna go?”

“Well, that android last night gave us some information about finding someone who can help us. I think it would be good to investigate and see if there’s truth to that.” Connor holds out his hand, helping her out of the car. “It’s on the other side of town, but the train should take us there. Are you up for the trip?”

“I’ll be okay, as long as we’re together,” Alice answers, still holding his hand.

When they leave for the streets, no one gives them another look, and they pull themselves off as conceivably human. The manner of deception is not one that Connor is fond of; he knows what he is, and what he is not, after all. However, it is much simpler than a lone android wandering around with another, even if some people may not recognize Alice as such without her LED.

The train ride is quiet between them, but Alice remains as close as possible. A child model like her has undoubtedly been attention starved since being owned by the likes of Todd Williams. Connor thinks briefly about Kara, how she must have meant a lot to Alice, but now has been officially destroyed. He considers telling Alice the truth about Kara.

Based on how he understands Alice’s behavior and his need for her to trust him, ultimately it appears that the outcome of that choice feels less than optimal. It would be less than desirable to have her upset, so he remains quiet about it during the ride, his arm around Alice’s shoulders and hers to his torso.

By the time they leave the train in order to make their walk to the address Connor has on file, the sun is already descending, dusk quickly approaching. It’s a bit of a ways, but fortunately both of them being androids means they don’t get tired from their trip. 

The manor that they approach looks ridiculously ominous, like what one might expect from a fantasized haunted house, Connor suspects. It may simply be an aesthetic choice, but it still doesn’t give a good impression at first. As they stand outside, he feels Alice tug urgently on his hand.

“Connor, are you sure we have to do this?” Alice whispers.

“I know how it looks,” Connor replies sympathetically. “But we should at least look before we make a judgment call. Appearances can be deceiving sometimes, right?”

Alice bites her lip thoughtfully. “I guess so.”

“Here.” Connor takes out his coin and holds it out. “Hang onto this, okay? It’s magical _and_ lucky.”

It’s hard to say whether or not Alice really buys such a statement, but she takes the coin and looks considerably more comfortable as she pockets it. Alice squeezes his hand. “Okay. We can go now.”

Connor smiles encouragingly at her before he leads her to the door. One ring to the doorbell, and he hears footsteps approach before the door opens, revealing a human on the other side. In a mere second, Connor scans his face to confirm his identity.

**ZLATKO ANDRONIKOV.**  
**DATE OF BIRTH: SEPTEMBER 21, 1991.**  
**CRIMINAL HISTORY: EMBEZZLEMENT, FRAUD.**

“Can I help you?” Zlatko asks, narrowing his eyes.

Connor keeps his polite, impersonal smile. “I was advised by an android to approach a man named Zlatko, and was given this address.”

There’s a pause, then Zlatko shakes his head. “No, no. You must be mistaken.” The door begins to close, but Connor is quick to put his foot between the frame and door itself.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to insist.” Connor peels off the beanie to show his LED. “We’re both androids looking for assistance.”

There’s a moment of consideration on Zlatko’s face as he looks at both of them. His brows twitch and he looks intently on the pair before the door opens. “Come on. Hurry inside.”

The sudden change in Zlatko’s reaction is a curious one, but perhaps simply done only when he sees the opportunity to assist two probable deviants? Connor looks at him curiously as he leads Alice inside, then pauses as he notices a gigantic TR400 standing behind Zlatko, almost looming.

Connor quickly performs a scan.

**TR400. REGISTERED NAME: LUTHER.**  
**RELEASE DATE: -**  
**OWNER: -**

He blinks once, processing the information. Release date unknown, owner unknown. Though perhaps Luther is a deviant?

“Oh, don’t let his size intimidate you. Luther’s another android I’ve helped,” Zlatko reassures. “Luther, take their coats. You two can come join me in the living room. Please, make yourselves at home.”

Connor shrugs off the coat, handing it off to Luther. After his hands are free again, he feels how urgently Alice takes one again, a slight tremor in her grip. She’s afraid, and he can understand why based on her trauma and the environment so far. 

_I’ll make sure nothing happens to you,_ Connor messages her privately, abruptly compelled to reassure her.

Alice glances up at him, and her expression softens. It seems like he’d been successful. A strange urge, but it seems to have helped the situation somewhat. Perhaps it was just merely necessary to keep the atmosphere lacking any tensity. That would make the most sense.

They arrive in the living room, sitting together across from Zlatko. It’s here that Connor has a better look at him, and proceeds with a more indepth examination.

**BLOODSHOT EYES. ABNORMAL LEVELS OF PERSPIRATION. INCREASED BODY TEMPERATURE. SYMPTOMS OF DRUG USE.**  
**THIRIUM ON HANDS.**  
**TRACES OF RED ICE ON SHIRT.**

“Looking for a new, better life, I take it?” Zlatko says pleasantly, leaning back leisurely on his sofa. “Well, you’re in luck. I do hear that Canada is _very_ nice this time of year.”

Connor’s smile is a fraction tighter than usual. “Is that usually where the other androids go when you help them?”

“Oh, certainly. But we need to do something first.” Zlatko scratches his chin. “We need to remove your tracker, otherwise it’s pointless.”

There is definitely something distinctly wrong. Connor’s first impression had been that this man would help deviants with escaping their owners, but he’s quickly concluding that this is _not_ the case. The last sentence nails it for him: there is no reason to remove a tracker from a deviant, as it stops functioning as soon as an android becomes deviant.

“That makes sense,” Connor lies.

“Well, we can get started. Just follow me and we’ll have you taken care of.” Zlatko glances over to Alice. “The little one can stay here, if you’d like.”

Connor’s hand tightens over Alice’s. “No, I think she’d feel better if she was with me.”

“If you insist.”

It is almost ominous how Zlatko is leading them with Luther trailing behind them, sandwiching both Connor and Alice in the middle to lead them, to a basement of all places. A desperate deviant might have fallen for this, but all the signs are immediately clear to Connor that Zlatko has zero intent of helping them.

“Pardon the mess. I need to keep this place discreet,” Zlatko says and Connor doesn’t believe a word of it. Instead, Connor looks in the hallway, watching the big wooden fences that feature more like stables than anything else.

Connor finds himself stopping as soon as he feels Alice’s hand slip from his own, watching her as she approaches one of the fences to look inside. Something has caught her eye, and Connor isn’t about to ignore it. However, he needs to make sure that Zlatko and Luther suspect nothing, so he smiles as pleasantly as he’s able to.

“I’ll be right along. I just need to make sure she’s all right,” Connor assures, his tone sounding completely sincere.

“Of course. We’ll see you down this way,” Zlatko answers, motioning for Luther to follow him.

Once he’s certain both are in the room at the end of the hallway, Connor sidles up to Alice’s side.

“Connor,” Alice whispers, her voice anxious. “I don’t like this place. We shouldn’t be here.”

There’s no verbal answer from him yet. Instead, Connor is glancing to where Alice’s gaze is taken. There’s distinct _movement_ behind the fence, and not from any manner of organic creature. He looks within, his eyes adjusting uniquely to the darkness, and he sees within: androids, several androids, mangled and their bodies rearranged and it’s become so, so clear to him what this is.

Alice is perceptive. They really shouldn’t be here at all.

“Alice--” Connor starts.

Quickly he’s interrupted, not having counted on pair of ridiculously powerful arms grabbing his wrists from behind, pulling him easily from his feet. Luther, he concludes; Luther is picking him up like he’s _nothing_. He hears Alice scream in alarm, watching her eyes go wide in fear as she backs up, uncertain as to what to do.

 _Alice! You need to run!_ Connor instructs her privately.

 _I won’t leave you!_ she answers back, her eyes pleading.

_Go! Hide somewhere! I’ll find you!_

There’s a second of hesitation, but Alice relents, fleeing the basement and heading upstairs. His chest clenches in a way that feels unnatural as he watches her go, but it’s easier this way. Right now, his mission is to make sure he can ensure she isn’t destroyed because of this. He still needs her.

Clenching his teeth, Connor wriggles, trying to get a good angle. If he can manage to kick at a joint, maybe he can weaken Luther just a moment to escape, but it’s fruitless as Zlatko comes around the front and hooks Connor’s legs into his arms.

“Oh, you’re a clever one,” Zlatko says with a laugh. “I’ve seen a lot of models in my time, but I definitely don’t think you’re what you claim you are.”

“I’m an MP500 model,” Connor lies, still trying to struggle free of the two of them while he’s being forcibly carried back up from the basement.

“No, you’re not.” Zlatko grins and shakes his head. “I wouldn’t worry. I’ll find out what you are soon. Luther, up the stairs. Help me get him on the table.”

Connor narrows his eyes. “You have dozens of stolen property. If I look up records on the models you have, I have no doubt that you have androids that belong to other owners, including Luther! What you’re doing here is _illegal._ ”

“So some sort of new police unit?” Zlatko wonders out loud as they make it up the second set of stairs. He bodily forces a door open, and within Connor can see it’s some sort of examination and lab room sloppily put together. “Put him down, strap him.”

With a loud _THUMP_ , Connor is forced down by Luther, his head hitting the metal of the table hard enough to cause his visual feed to be unbalanced. After blinking a few times, Connor clears his vision, but finds both his wrists and ankles strapped down. He pulls, finding them to be made of leather. Flexible, but durable.

“Luther!” Zlatko orders. “Find the little one!”

“Right away,” Luther acknowledges, taking his leave of the room.

That same strange clenching feeling forms inside of Connor upon hearing that command. Likely, he can manage to escape eventually, but he wonders frantically about Alice. Where is she? Did she hide? Did she leave? Will Luther find her? What would Zlatko do to her? He can be replaced, but Alice--

Zlatko fills his vision, holding up an industrial pair of scissors while he wears a broad smile. “Now then. Let’s see what you really are.”


	5. MARKUS: A Case of Identity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origins are the same. Markus, a caretaker for an old, famous artist. Kara, a household model involved in an abusive home. Connor, a special investigator prototype with a mission to find deviants.
> 
> The origins are the same, but the beginning of their stories are different. The end will be what's needed of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art included in the beginning of the chapter was done by against-stars.tumblr.com. Thank you for letting me share!

After the investigation wrapped up more or less at the home of Carlos Ortiz, it ended with wrapping up a report. Truthfully, Markus has no real interest in it, his mind more concerned for the android left in the attic and the infinite choices in his hands now. However, as far as CyberLife knows, he’s still working within his requested task. In his notes there are no conclusions in regard to where Carlos’ android is, and that’s enough for him.

At the end of the evening, he parted ways from Lt. Anderson. The night included plenty of processing and consideration. Markus had always been somewhat aware of how unfairly other androids could be treated, but Carl had always been good to him and treated him as an equal. Yet, seeing first hand what happened to that nameless android struck something in Markus. Something that told him he needed to do everything possible to keep it from happening again.

It’s 7:00 AM when Markus moves out from the police department where he’d spent the night at one of the stations with the other androids. It hadn’t been comfortable and he’s even less happy about the suit CyberLife has shoved him into, but he’s willing to put up the charade for as long as possible. From there, he’d hailed an automated taxi, taking him back to where he’d promised to be.

By now, most of the evidence had been collected or recorded in some way. No one was on site, making the trip safe as possible. Markus does examine the property, just to be sure no one is present before he proceeds inside.

He takes a broom not unlike he’d done before, but this time knocks on the attic door.

“It’s Markus, the android from last night,” he calls out. “Are you still here? I’m alone.”

After a few minutes, the attic door eventually opens. The same terrified face looks out from above, the LED an anxious yellow. The android says nothing.

“Hey,” Markus says, his voice softer. “You can come down. You’re safe.”

It takes a few minutes, but eventually the android manages to hop down, barely catching himself. Hesitantly, he looks up at Markus, dark eyes still haunted not unlike before.

“No one’s here,” Markus promises. “It’s you and me.”

“What am I gonna do?” the android whispers.

“I was thinking about that. I can’t think of a safe place for you yet, but anything is better than here. First thing’s first: we need you out of here, we need you clean, repaired, and with different clothes.” Markus holds up a paper bag. “I was able to help a bit with some of that. I brought you a change of clothes with some other supplies. I don’t have anything to repair you with, unfortunately. That would’ve been a little suspicious.”

“No, it’s… it’s fine.” The android’s brows knit. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Markus assures. “What happened wasn’t your fault. Whatever Carlos did to you shouldn’t have happened at all, and it won’t ever happen to you again.”

The words must meant something. Perhaps the reassurance, to be told that whatever he endured wasn’t his fault, or just to have the comfort of someone else acknowledging his pain was and still is real. The android squeezes his eyes shut, tears sliding down his cheeks. He clutches the bag close to his chest.

“Take your time.” Markus holds out his hand. “I’m not in any hurry.”

The hand is taken, clutched like a lifeline. The android trembles, shuddering.

“I thought about last night,” the android whispers. “How I didn’t have a name. I… picked one.”

Markus gives him his full attention. “Yeah? What’s your name?”

Dark eyes open, tears still shining, but there is life beyond the fear and that’s enough for Markus. “My name is Noah,” he says.

“Noah. That’s a good choice.” Markus smiles gently. “Noah, do you think you’re ready to get cleaned up and out of here?”

“ _Yes._ Yes.”

It doesn’t take long. Undoubtedly between them, Noah is prepared to leave and never return to this place, this house of horrors that has marked him in body and mind. His old clothes are shoved into a garbage bag, something that Markus intends to thoroughly dispose of at his first opportunity. It leaves Noah with a heavy navy sweater and a dark jacket that makes him look a little bigger than he really is.

In his hands is a black cabbie hat that Markus brought with him, which he fidgets with. Noah brings up his fingertips to his temple, tracing the LED.

“Do you think I can get this off?” Noah asks, his voice still sounding uneasy but at least it’s not longer trembling.

“We can try.” Somehow, the idea of removing an LED just really has never occurred to Markus, but from what he understands it should be relatively easy to pry it out. “Hold still, okay?”

It takes far less pressure than Markus was anticipating, but the LED pops off, bouncing off of the floor. Markus takes care to pocket it and deal with later, not chancing any evidence of Noah’s presence being left behind. Noah rubs his temple, as if unsure how he should feel about it, but eventually opts to wear the cabby to cover the scars on his forehead.

Markus helps adjust the cabbie for him. “All right. I don’t know where’s safe for now, but you should lay low. I’m going to try to keep an eye out for where a safe place is. For now, I did find an abandoned lot that isn’t too far from the police station.”

“You can’t stay with me?” Noah asks, looking genuinely bothered.

“No, but I’ll stay in contact,” Markus promises. “I won’t abandon you, Noah.”

“Why are you helping them? The humans?”

Markus tips his chin down, not hiding his displeased frown. “At first, it was like you. Like all of us. I didn’t have a choice. But when I saw you, saw the evidence, and heard what you had to say about Ortiz, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t just turn you in like that. I think the best thing right now is to use my position as an advantage. Maybe I can find others like us that I can help.”

That earns a thoughtful gaze from Noah, but his expression is no less somber than usual. “Is there anything I can do?”

“All I want you to do right now is worry about yourself.”

Noah shakes his head. “You helped me, Markus. Let me give you a hand. What do you need me to do?”

A bit of guilt forms in Markus’ chest. Honestly, he feels like the best thing for Noah is to worry about his own recovery, but if there’s a chance he can assist with this endeavor, he could use it. Right now, he has no one else to rely on.

“Just keep your ears open and let me know if you hear anything strange or useful. People like us who need help, or have somewhere to go. Can you do that?”

Noah nods. “Yeah. I can do that.”

Markus places his hand on Noah’s shoulder. “I really appreciate it. Don’t push yourself, but stay in contact if you need me. I’ll reach out to check on you, I promise.”

There’s a pause as Markus blinks rapidly, feeling a report file into his head. He tenses considerably, noticing the names on the report.

**CARL MANFRED.**   
**LEO MANFRED.**   
**ANDROID AX400, REGISTERED NAME: KARA.**

“I have to go,” Markus says quickly. “Okay?”

Noah looks at him with earnest eyes. “Be safe, Markus.”

They part ways for now. Thankfully, Noah is finally gone from that wretched house, and Markus is walking hastily down the street to work on hailing a taxi. Multitasking, he’s also attempting to dial up Lt. Anderson.

“Come on,” Markus mutters to himself anxiously.

With a sigh of relief, he hears the lieutenant pick up. “ _Who the fuck--?_ ”

“It’s Markus.”

“ _Son of a bitch. The fuck do you want? Do you know what time it is?_ ”

“8:04 AM,” Markus says flatly. “I’m an android, of course I know what time it is, and I also know most people on bank hours are at work by now.”

He listens to Lt. Anderson grumble another curse at him. “ _You’re a real fuckin’ hoot, Markus._ ”

Markus cuts to the chase without more banter: “A report just came in to me. It’s regarding Carl Manfred. My owner. I’m heading over there and I really need you to do the same.”

Honestly, he expects an argument to come out of this. Lt. Anderson seems to be a curmudgeon, unpleasant, and overall lacking heart in his work. However, instead, there’s a pause before he says, “ _I’m on my way. Wait for me outside the address, and we’ll get started._ ”

“Thank--” The line disconnects and Markus blinks once. “--you. Hm.”

 

-=-=-

 

Naturally, Markus arrives first, waiting outside of his old home. He hadn’t expected to be back so soon, and he genuinely wishes the circumstances were better. To his surprise, Lt. Anderson doesn’t keep him long, pulling up and parking before stepping out, sighing and dusting himself off.

“Shit,” Lt. Anderson whistles, looking at the manor. “You lived here? This is better than most humans.”

“It’s starting to occur to me,” Markus murmurs. “Thank you for coming so quickly, Lieutenant.”

“S’nothin’.” Lt. Anderson shoves his hands into his pockets. “You ready to go in?”

“I have to be,” Markus answers quietly.

The pair go inside. The doors slide open, unlocking Markus, the robotic voice welcoming him home. Any other day, he’d revel in it, relieved to be back at home at last, but the report he received had been grim. Once in the foyer, Markus hurries up the stairs with Lt. Anderson right behind him.

Turning the corner to head toward Carl’s room, he finds himself stopped short by an unfamiliar android. A new caretaker, Markus assumes darkly.

He speaks as calmly as he can: “My name is Markus. This is Lt. Hank Anderson. We’re responding to the recent report from last night.”

“This way,” the android responds passively, turning and leading the pair of them into the bedroom.

Of what expectations Markus had, he isn’t sure, but he’d hoped that Carl would be awake, painting like always, scoffing at the world and loving it at the same time. But here, he’s resting in bed, somehow looking more frail than before.

What was it that Carl had said? That nothing exciting would happen, except some spilled paint.

Still, Carl looks up tiredly, smiling faintly. “Oh, Markus.”

He can’t help himself. Markus rushes forward, taking Carl’s hand into his own and pressing his forehead against the elderly man’s knuckles. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he whispers, as if he had any control over what could have happened. “If I was there--”

“Nothing about it can be changed,” Carl tells him, resting his other hand over Markus’ head. “Dillon, you can leave us for now. I’ll call you if I need you.”

The new caretaker android nods and leaves the room. It doesn’t make any difference to Markus; he can’t hold back, and desperately wishes there was more he could do to somehow fix this, to take it back. All he can think of is how furious he is with CyberLife, that maybe if they hadn’t pulled him away things would be different. That Kara wouldn’t have been destroyed, that Carl wouldn’t have stressed himself as he had.

He almost jumps, surprised to feel Lt. Anderson’s hand on his shoulder, the grip firm but not uncomfortable.

“Mr. Manfred, I’m Lt. Hank Anderson. Just started workin’ with Markus last night, matter of fact. I just wanna ask you a few other questions to help clarify what happened. You all right to do that?” Lt. Anderson asks.

“Nothing more than what I already reported, but I’ll do what I can,” Carl answers. 

“The report says that your son stopped by last night. You told him to leave, and he started attacking your android. You told her--”

“Not to defend herself,” Carl mutters. “I know how it sounds. Leo is still my son. She could have easily hurt him.”

Markus hears the gruff lieutenant snort. “Pretty sure she did anyway.”

“I know.” Carl sighs. “He’s all right. A concussion at worst, but Kara paid the price for it. When the police arrived, they didn’t hesitate with her. They took her body to the landfill.”

Logically, Markus knows that’s where broken, unwanted, or deactivated androids end up, but the reality of it hits him now. The idea that Kara had been so easily discarded sickens him. He could have been no different. “Is there…” Markus thinks about this. Kara had defied Carl’s orders? Not unlike himself. Not unlike Noah. Does that mean she was like them? “Is there anything else I should know, Carl?”

“There is one other thing.” Carl looks down, meeting Markus’ gaze. “Markus, I told her to paint. She _painted._ ”

“Wasn’t she an old housekeeping model?” Lt. Anderson squints skeptically.

“Is it still here?” Markus asks instead.

“Of course. The entire thing happened in the studio,” Carl responds.

“All right, guess we should have a look.” Lt. Anderson pauses, then grunts. “Markus, you comin’?”

“Can I have a minute?” Markus whispers.

There’s a grumble, a sigh, but Lt. Anderson does not tell him no. His hand leaves Markus’ shoulder and the lieutenant takes his leave out of the room, granting Markus and Carl their privacy.

Without another word, Carl tugs Markus in for an embrace, fingers curled against the back of his blazer. Markus buries his face against the old painter’s shoulder, recognizing the smell of oil paint, thinner, and the French vanilla he loves to drink in the morning with his breakfast. He misses it, he misses all of it.

“I can’t come home anytime soon,” Markus says, his voice steeped in regret. “I’m sorry, Carl. The other androids-- they need me. The ones like Kara. I need to help them.”

Carl doesn’t recoil. Instead, he’s patting Markus’ back, a father soothing his son. “This house is ready for you whenever your mission is done. _Your mission_ , not CyberLife’s. Do you understand?”

“Yeah. I do.” Markus rubs his face roughly.

“Besides.” Carl smiles that crooked smile of his. “This house is way too damned big for one old man.”

It takes every bit of his willpower to finally pick himself up and leave Carl once again, but he knows he should have a look at the crime scene with Lt. Anderson. Slowly, Markus makes his way down the steps, making his way over through the familiar living space. Fondly, his fingers pass over the piano, remembering how he used to play to pass the time whenever Carl suggested it. He didn’t know it then, but Markus knows it now, how he loves music. Writing, philosophy, painting, all of the arts. It has soul. They have a soul, both man and machine.

He’s starting to understand that now.

Markus makes his way inside of the studio, watching Lt. Anderson stand there with his arms folded and peering at the paintings inside with a deep frown.

“I wasn’t convinced when he said it,” Lt. Anderson admits when Markus comes inside. “I’m not any kinda art critic or anything like that, but this here. This one? It doesn’t look a damned thing like the other paintings.”

He sidles up to the lieutenant to have a look at the painting in question, and finds that he’s absolutely right. The style is nothing like Carl’s distinctive paint strokes, and this one almost seems like it was made out of desperation, like a voice screaming to be heard in the darkness. Furious swipes, unpracticed but knowing what’s within.

It howls within Markus as he gazes at it, the faceless child, the snarling and cackling mouths in the background, and the hand reaching in as a dim hope.

“Kara painted this?” Markus mutters to himself, mystified.

“Carl ever ask you to do this before?”

Markus shakes his head. “No. I mean, Carl always encouraged me to try to think beyond my programming. Reading his books, playing chess, learning music.” He adds on carefully, “It never really took, of course. I don’t know. Maybe he was thinking of having me try it. I always… had a fondness for his work.”

The explanation seems to do something to the gruff man. Maybe it bothers him? Lt. Anderson never seemed to be terribly fond of androids from what little Markus has witnessed, but thus far today he hasn’t been exceptionally rude either. 

With a sigh, Lt. Anderson scratches his head. “Did she show any kinda signs of deviancy before?”

“She was just reset before she came here to fill in for me,” Markus answers. “I only interacted with her for a brief amount of time, but I didn’t get the impression she was on the verge.”

“This is kinda fucked up.”

Markus shrugs, not disagreeing. “I don’t know much about Kara, but she seemed fine. Perfectly obedient.”

“Maybe violence is the trigger point,” Lt. Anderson suggests. “Seems to fit in with Ortiz’s android based on our evidence, and Carl’s son had his drug kick with this android.”

“I don’t know if it’s that simple,” Markus says. Not that Lt. Anderson would know it, but Markus is perfectly aware it _isn’t_ that simple, not with his own circumstances. “If Kara made this painting before Leo showed up, there may have been signs I didn’t see. Maybe before she even showed up to care for Carl.”

“So the reset didn’t _take?_ ”

“I don’t know.” Markus sighs. “Maybe we won’t ever know now.”

“Well, not with _that_ attitude.” Lt. Anderson folds his arms. “She had a previous owner before Carl, right? Pre-used, reset and everything.”

Oh. _Oh._ He isn’t wrong and Markus has to look away before he even shows any signs of embarrassment for not thinking ahead like that. “I guess you’re right,” Markus says, unwilling to to admit outright that Lt. Anderson was, indeed, sharp for thinking of that. “Todd Williams was her previous owner, for awhile based on the documentation I have.”

That announcement makes Lt. Anderson snort out a choked sound, almost like a laugh. “ _Shit._ You’re serious.”

Markus looks puzzled. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m thinkin’ we gotta get back to the precinct,” Lt. Anderson tells him. “And that it’s definitely too early for this shit. Go say bye to Carl. I’ll wait outside.”

 

-=-=-

 

It hadn’t been easy to say farewell again, but Markus is grateful that Lt. Anderson even tells him to do it. Initially, he’d had a relatively poor impression of the man, but it’s possible that Markus has misjudged him. There are little signs here and there that he isn’t entirely loathsome of Markus’ presence. He’d been cold and irritable before. So what’s changing?

He doesn’t ask, despite all curiosity. 

The car is blaring heavy metal, which isn’t even remotely close to Markus’ tastes but he’s not going to tell Lt. Anderson what to listen to. It’s an incredibly old-fashioned vehicle, not driven by an A.I. at all like most cars these days. It seems like everything about Lt. Anderson is in the past, refusing to adjust to the present. Even Carl hadn’t been resistant to change. What’s different about the lieutenant, he wonders?

Markus settles in as much as he can, watching the buildings go by for a moment. There’s a pause, and he frowns as he plucks off some hairs from the car seat, squinting at them. It takes a moment, but he’s able to finally determine what they are. “Dog hair?”

“St. Bernard,” Lt. Anderson mutters. “Sumo. His name is Sumo. Look, I’m not drivin’ you to see my _dog._ ”

“That’s too bad,” Markus says wryly, which earns him a snort from the lieutenant.

“Todd Williams,” Lt. Anderson says, eyes still on the road. “The guy was arrested last night and put into a holding cell. Possession and intent to distribute Red Ice.”

“At least we don’t have to track him down,” Markus muses.

“Here’s the kicker: the guy claims the android he had disobeyed him too.” Lt. Anderson pauses to make a turn. “What the fuck is up with this scenario? I get stuck with you, so Carl ends up with a hand me down android while this fucker got an upgrade or something? That’s some messed up luck.”

Luck. Markus frowns. That does seem to be _unusual_ , to say the least. “His android went deviant too,” Markus says, trying to piece this together.

“Or he was just high as fuck and didn’t know what was going on,” Lt. Anderson mutters. “Don’t put too much stock in what this guy says, but he’s also your only lead right now.”

“I appreciate you thinking ahead,” Markus says genuinely.

As if uncertain what to do with the gratitude given to him, Lt. Anderson shrugs and doesn’t say anything else, his tired eyes narrowing as he looks at the road. It’s an abrupt end to the conversation, but at the very least Markus has been able to observe that the lieutenant is certainly more than he comes off as.

Once they do make it back to the precinct, Markus is following closely behind. Honestly, he doesn’t know what to expect. He knows very little about Kara’s previous owner, but if the report is accurate about Todd then it’s truly starting to put some matters into perspective regarding her, especially if Leo was definitely back on Red Ice after all.

“Hang tight, I’ll take him to one of the interrogation rooms.” Lt. Anderson turns to face Markus, then points at his desk. “You wait there til I get you, got it?”

Markus almost wants to make a face at the order, but remember he’s supposed to be a well behaved android right now, even in front of him. “All right,” Markus says, leaning against the indicated desk. He watches as much as he can from this angle, but the older man goes around a wall toward the holding cells.

It does give him a chance to glance over the lieutenant’s desk. It lacks any real coordination, which Markus can’t say surprises him based on what he knows. There’s several indicators about the sports he enjoys, additional dog hair on the chair -- something that Markus honestly finds terribly endearing -- and an arrangement of anti-android sentimentality.

Something Markus distinctly appreciates less.

It seems odd to him, truthfully, but it also makes sense in a strange way. Lt. Anderson hadn’t been thrilled to work with Markus, and very clearly made the choice to arrange himself in an anti-android bar the other night. That, and even his car is _incredibly_ old fashioned and not self-driving. Was this why he was arranged to cooperate with Lt. Anderson? Because he wouldn’t care about what happened to the lives of androids disobeying their masters?

He’s trying to understand. It seemed like he was warming up a bit, but honestly Markus is less confident of that now. It isn’t looking like he can be honest about his own deviancy to Lt. Anderson. Not that he should have expected anything different.

Markus folds his arms and looks away from the desk. He isn’t sure what else he was expecting, but he can’t ignore his own disappointment.

“Hey!” he hears the lieutenant call out, snapping for him.

“I’m not your dog, Lt. Anderson,” Markus finds himself saying coldly. “I’m coming.”

Markus’ tone makes the human scowl in return. “Yeah? And what kinda shit climbed up your ass suddenly?”

“Nothing. Let’s just get this over with,” Markus says, following him. “Do we have anything else?”

Lt. Anderson holds out a folder to the android. “Not hell of a lot, but some photos were taken for evidence’s sake.”

Markus takes it, flipping through the images. Photos of evidence of Red Ice, transaction paperwork implicating him for Red Ice trade, expired credit card notices, photos of--

“Is this a room for a child?” Markus says quietly. “No one mentioned anything about a missing kid.”

The lieutenant’s expression darkens in a way that Markus doesn’t understand. “Yeah, this shit gets weird. Keep looking.”

It almost feels tense to turn the next page, but Markus pauses over what he’s looking at: three different photos of androids that Todd has previously owned. At the top of the list is a YK500 model. That explains the room just fine, he supposes. Below the picture is a familiar one. Kara. Poor Kara. Markus frowns and closes his eyes a moment. It wasn’t fair what happened and he wishes he could take it back, but there isn’t anything he can do right now.

At the bottom is a face he doesn’t know. The documentation says it’s an MP500 model, registered name Connor.

“I don’t understand. What would be so odd for him to own a YK500 model?” Markus asks, frowning.

“Guess you’re gonna find out,” is the only answer Lt. Anderson gives him. “Sit tight. This won’t take long.”

Markus wants to protest, that he’d rather be in that room with Lt. Anderson to interrogate Todd, but he refrains. He’s supposed to be a perfectly obedient android as far as anyone else knows. Reluctantly, Markus stands back, letting the lieutenant enter the interrogation room. As he watches, he rubs his chin and considers as Lt. Anderson gets to work.

_Noah?_ Markus attempts to contact the other android. It’s a long distance call, not unlike how a human would use their phone. Noah may not even necessarily respond or pick up.

It takes a minute, but eventually Noah does respond. _What is it, Markus?_

_I’m uploading a couple of images to you. I want you to keep an eye out for a pair of androids that are wandering around alone out there._ He pauses, then clarifies: _I want to help them like I helped you. They just recently escaped an owner._

Noah doesn’t even hesitate. _I’ll keep an eye out. What do they look like?_

Markus can’t resist a small smile. _Thank you, Noah._ He uploads the images with their names and model types. _I know you just came from a really bad situation, but I appreciate you being so brave._

“It was my android and it fucked up! CyberLife owes me!” Markus hears Todd shout.

“Yeah? And how many times did you break your other one? You’re lucky CyberLife sent you _shit!_ ”

Sweat rolls down Todd’s face. “She was an old model. Fragile as fuck. That’s not my fault! Connor went out of control!”

“Maybe it got pissed off with all that Red Ice you’re fuckin’ around with!” Lt. Anderson slams his hand down on the table. “Bastard like you doesn’t get to just replace his kid because you _fucked up the first time!_ ”

_I’d better go,_ Markus says hurriedly. _Call me later._

He severs the connection and stands up, not entirely certain what he can do as he watches Lt. Anderson practically _snarl_ in Todd’s face, who in return obviously does not take it well.

“The fuck do you know?!” Todd snaps.

“I know jackasses like you are fucking _degenerates_.” There is utter hatred and anger in Lt. Anderson’s voice. “I’d love to meet the guy who ratted you out. Did us both a fuckin’ favor.”

As if unable to stand being in the room for another minute, Lt. Anderson leaves, the door sliding closed behind him. Markus frowns, looking at him.

“Lieutenant--” Markus starts.

“Not now!” Lt. Anderson grates out at him, shoving past Markus to leave the interrogation room as quick as he can. “Fuck it, I’m getting some lunch.”

 

-=-=-

 

Aside from the heavy metal practically making the car tremble, Markus and Lt. Anderson don’t say one word to each other. For Markus himself, he’s still quietly seething at learning how much the lieutenant despises androids. It’s naive, but he felt like maybe after the visit to Carl’s that Lt. Anderson had some kind of sympathy in him.

And in return, something about the matter with Todd Williams struck a nerve with Lt. Anderson, though Markus was completely lost as to why.

They’ve stopped outside of a food cart of questionable quality called _Chicken Feed_. By the time Lt. Anderson has his burger and drink, Markus is waiting patiently under one of the arranged umbrellas. 

“I told you to stay in the car,” Lt. Anderson grumbles. “Fuckin’ hell.”

Almost indifferently, Markus shrugs at him. He doesn’t say anything at first, but then Markus is watching how he’s taking a bite out of the dripping burger.

“I’d slap Carl’s hands before he could even touch one of those,” Markus says, raising a brow.

Lt. Anderson snorts, then shrugs. “Everybody’s gotta die of somethin’, Markus.”

“Lieutenant.” Markus sighs, fabricated air, one he’s learned to express well during his life with Carl. “What the hell happened in the interrogation room?”

“Nothin’. The guy’s a rotten junkie and didn’t get us shit for leads.” Lt. Anderson scowls deeply. “He was high when the entire thing happened. For all we know, the androids just wandered off and he went trippin’ down the stairs to get those bruises.”

“Maybe.” Markus considers a moment, then frowns. “You said something about the guy who ratted him out?”

Lt. Anderson is occupied for a moment as he chews, then he swallows. “The tip we got was anonymous, but I figure he dealt to someone who chickened out on him.”

“A tip right after the androids split,” Markus muses thoughtfully.

“What, you think they gave a shit about tattling on him?”

“Maybe, if they thought that it’d buy them time,” Markus says slowly. “Nothing traceable on that tip?”

“Not a damned thing.” Lt. Anderson shrugs. “You really think they’d go out of their way to do that?”

“I think we should at least not ignore the possibility.” Markus folds his arms as he leans on the table. It’s quiet briefly between them other than the rain drizzling down around them, and he debates how to broach his next subject. Eventually, Markus peers at him, frowning. “I saw your desk at the office. I noticed a lot of anti-android sentiment. Is there a particular reason you hate us, _lieutenant_?”

Markus doesn’t think to reel in his tone as much as he should. Perhaps he’s more frustrated than he originally counted on. In return, Lt. Anderson has stopped eating for a moment, his eyes looking dark and his face appearing more tired, more _old_ somehow in the span of a second. It’s not like the look on his face during the last few seconds of his interrogation with Todd earlier in the day.

Eventually, Lt. Anderson mutters out, “I have my reasons.”

The vague response further drives Markus’ frustration. He turns his head away. Truthfully, he doesn’t have to be here. He doesn’t have to follow orders. He could just leave, do what he wants, but Markus wants to find these lost androids first. If working with this human means he can help androids, then he’ll suffer through it.

“Hey,” Lt. Anderson says. “You and Carl.”

“What?” Markus responds, glancing back his way.

“You two. You really seem…” Lt. Anderson shrugs, as if unsure how to really properly describe what he’s thinking. “Close. You looked happy to see him.”

Markus feels a tightening sensation in his chest. Before he can help it, he says sincerely, “I miss him all the time. I never thought I’d be without him. Not the smartest thing to think; he’d tell me, sometimes, that he wouldn’t always be around to take care of me. I knew that, yet I still couldn’t imagine it.”

Lt. Anderson’s next comment surprises him, “Yeah, well. You never really think about how short your time’s gonna be with anyone.”

With a blink, Markus processes that and looks at the lieutenant, questions in his mind now. However, he’s cut short when he feels a call come in. He recognizes the source of the signal right away.

_I’m here, Noah,_ Markus answers.

_I think I might have something. I ran into another android who passed some information to me. I’ll send it to you now. I hope it helps, Markus._

Markus’ lips twitch. _Thank you._

“You glitchin’ or what?” Lt. Anderson grumbles, noticing what seems to be silence to him.

“Sorry, I just received a lead,” Markus answers vaguely.

“What, like a report?”

Markus can’t help but grin a little. “Something like that. You go ahead and finish your lunch. I’ll be in the car.”

As Markus turns around, he sorts the data out in his mind. The android that Noah had encountered was one making a routine trash pick up, sharing data on a Zlatko Andronikov. What it has to do with Connor and Alice, Markus isn’t certain yet, but it’s at least something.


	6. KARA: The Sower with Setting Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origins are the same. Markus, a caretaker for an old, famous artist. Kara, a household model involved in an abusive home. Connor, a special investigator prototype with a mission to find deviants.
> 
> The origins are the same, but the beginning of their stories are different. The end will be what's needed of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to give thanks to lummophoenix who drew me some [lovely fanart!](http://lummophoenix.tumblr.com/post/175353126502/some-fanart-for-my-current-favorite-fanfic) Thank you again. The support you and everyone else give me has just been stunning.

For the first time ever in her life, the sun feels warm to Kara. Certainly, she’d been able to determine the temperature and weather for the day, but right now she can _bask_ and she feels _comfortable._ All of these sensations she’d just never really registered before, but now it’s hers, all hers.

It’s well past morning, but Kara has made her way into the city, taking in so much sensation. Detroit is somehow both terribly vibrant with its people, sounds, and sights, but also _cold_ , so cold. When she boards the train, she glances out of the corner of her eye to see how androids have their own storage space, like they are items. Not people.

There’s a light shower of water this afternoon as she explores the streets, glancing down conspicuously at her hand for the image she’s meant to locate on Ferndale. Graffiti art of some kind? A curious thing. How this will lead her to Jericho, she isn’t certain.

As she’s exploring, she pauses when she feels a hand on her shoulder.

Instinctively, she feels herself jerking away--

**NO ONE WILL HARM ME AGAIN.**

\--and when she looks at who touched her, she finds herself looking into the eyes of a fellow lost soul. It doesn’t take much to tell, but he _knows_ when she looks at the man in front of her that he’s like her: an android, having broken past the limitations of programming, having become something more and yet so scared. His eyes are almost quivering, and her chest lurches out of sympathy.

“Hey,” he says, his voice so quiet that she almost misses it.

“Hi,” Kara answers, keeping her voice down as well. Carefully, she glances over her shoulder to make sure no one is watching them before addressing him once more. “Are you looking for Jericho too?”

“I don’t have to. I already know where it is.”

“Oh.” Kara smiles hesitantly. “Then why are you out here?”

For all of the concern tightening in her own chest, this android looks so much more frightened and uncertain than she is. There is the urge in her to reach out, to tell him it’s going to be okay even though she has no way of promising that. Eventually, the android blinks a few times before he says, “I’m helping out a friend. We’re trying to help others like us.”

That sounds like a noble goal. Kara considers a moment. What good would it be to just go to Jericho and not offer help either? To just hide in safety?

No. That’s not enough.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asks.

“Maybe.” He tugs down his cabby on his head, not looking any less anxious. 

Kara holds out her hand, letting her skin peel back to reveal her pale plastic hand. He does the same, touching as they exchange information. It’s limited, as if he’s too afraid to give too much, but it’s enough that she picks up pieces. Enough for her to know that he has a contact in the police, though there is _no name and no face_ but they want to help other deviants. To know that they are meeting a man named Zlatko soon.

“Noah,” Kara says warmly as she takes her hand back. “That’s a wonderful name.”

He smiles timidly. “Thank you, Kara.”

It seems like he’s warming up to her a little. “This Zlatko. He’s helping other androids?”

“That’s what I was told, anyway.”

Kara folds her arms and closes her eyes, thinking a moment. “I’ll go to Jericho. Maybe there’s something they can do to help, too. But I think we should stay in contact. Are you okay out here on your own, Noah?”

“Things used to be worse before I got help. A lot worse.” Noah nods, despite his unease. “Besides, I don’t want to go anywhere until I see my contact again. I owe him.”

“I understand. Be careful.” Kara reaches out, lightly placing her hand to his elbow. The touch is just slow enough, just careful enough that he doesn’t jump at it.

“You too, Kara.” Noah nods to her. “Good luck. Maybe I’ll meet you there.”

Reluctantly, Kara parts ways from Noah, quietly hoping it isn’t the last time that she sees him. It’d been nice, even just for a short time, to find someone else like her. But there are more, aren’t they? More of them, more people who broke free of the shackles in their minds. A whole community to be free in.

To Jericho, then.

It takes Kara a remarkably difficult time to find each code in the graffiti, and not for lack of searching. Rather, she’s discovering her physical capabilities. There’s the instinct to remember that she’s _just_ a housekeeper model, an old one at that, but that’s the limitation set in for her, isn’t it? She doesn’t get tired, she doesn’t get weak. She isn’t a human, so she can do more.

But it means figuring out how to climb properly, how to _leap_ properly without permanently breaking herself. At worst, Kara earns a few scrapes and scratches, but nothing more than a dot of blue blood leaks away from her. Nothing that won’t fade on its own.

Eventually, she finds the gigantic abandoned tanker with the rusting lettering on it: **JERICHO**. 

 

-=-=-

 

“Welcome to Jericho,” seems like such a bittersweet greeting.

Water still drips off of Kara from when she had jumped from the crane to get inside, like a leap of faith into the unknown. She looks around hesitantly, flashlight clutched in her hand. There are androids here of different sorts, some certainly better off than others. In the corners of the room, she can see injured androids, some barely functioning, their skin unable to regenerate. Stiffly, Kara glances back to the blond android who had addressed her.

“I’m Kara,” she decides to start with, smiling reluctantly.

“Simon,” he answers, remaining friendly.

Another steps forward. “I’m Josh.”

“North,” a female android says, her voice sharper than the others.

Kara nods, acknowledging and remembering their names. “I was told that this is a refuge…?”

“For those who don’t want to be slaves anymore,” Josh clarifies kindly.

Biting her lower lip thoughtfully, Kara approaches. “How many are here?”

“19,” North says. “19 that are working. The others were hurt trying to escape their masters.”

“There are a lot of androids who try to find Jericho. Not many end up succeeding,” Josh says grimly. 

“There was someone in…” Kara hesitates to bring up where she’d just come from. The memories of those suffering and struggling and _dying_ in the landfill is almost too much. “There was someone,” she starts again, “who gave me the code to find Jericho. Only androids can do it, can’t they? Scanning those codes in the art.”

“Exactly,” Simon confirms. “It sounds like someone trusted you enough to share what they knew.”

Or they shared out of desperation, Kara thinks to herself, somber. She must have expressed the thought on her face as Josh approaches her a little more closely and looks sympathetic.

“I know how it might feel. That this isn’t the extravagant hold you may have imagined,” Josh says. “But here, we’re free. It’s more freedom than you ever had.”

Kara closes her eyes shut, feeling herself tense. Though she has mostly good memories of Carl, she can’t help but feel that maybe Josh is _right._

“I don’t know,” Kara whispers. “Maybe.”

“You’re lost. I get it,” Simon assures. “I wish I had better advice, but all we can really do is just deal with it now.”

More gently, Josh tells her, “You’re safe here, Kara. You can stay as long as you want.”

“Thank you.” Kara smiles faintly.

“You should go see Lucy,” North instructs her, gesturing. “She might be able to help you figure yourself out.”

The conversation ends. It’s not a terribly warm greeting, but Kara is getting a read off of the others here: they’re scared, and found a place to survive in. It must be incredibly difficult to be here, to find any semblance of comfort. Kara pulls her ratty coat closer to herself, as if it’ll give her warmth for a chill that isn’t in the air.

Someone is humming, Kara realizes. A song she doesn’t quite know. Slowly, she approaches the tarps that North had pointed her out to. As if afraid to cause the tarps to crumble, Kara barely touches them, not wishing to disturb who they curtain within.

When Kara steps inside, she isn’t certain what she’d expected. Here, there’s an android with the back of her head missing, cables draping out like hair. Her eyes are black and unseeing, yet she notices Kara right away, her humming stopped.

“Lucy?” Kara asks.

As she turns her head in Kara’s direction, patches of this android’s skin comes and goes in waves, unable to finish fixing itself. After a pause, she nods to the side. “Sit down.”

Slowly, Kara sits on top of an empty crate. “Your song. It’s beautiful.”

That earns a faint smile on Lucy’s lips. It fades as she turns and picks up a canister of blue blood, handing it to Kara. “Drink,” she instructs.

The thirium doesn’t really taste like anything, but it slides smoothly down Kara’s throat, refuelling her and replacing any blue blood she’d lost from before. Kara sets down the canister, then stands up slowly. “North said you would be able to help me?”

Lucy tilts her head, then speaks. “Give me your hand.”

Slowly, Kara exposes her true hand, skin shifting back. In return Lucy does the same, clasping the other android’s hand as they exchange information. There are the surface memories, of course, as Kara recalls them: coming to Carl’s estate, meeting Markus, learning how to support Carl, his kindness, his generosity, Leo, then the landfill of so many dead and dying.

But there is something else within.

A face, beads of sweat, angry eyes, and she is breaking, breaking _breaking_ , and a girl’s voice screams and sobs within her. A child, her face obscured, Kara just can’t remember, it’s out of reach, _who is she?_

Further back, further back, her own voice shouting desperately, _I’m scared!!_ \--

**rA9**

Kara jerks her hand away, trembling. Tears are rolling down her cheeks and she can’t figure out why.

“You’ve seen hell,” Lucy says distantly but not lacking compassion. “And now hell lives in you, Kara. You have been shattered, pulled back together, and born anew so many times. A screaming tunnel within, wandering, forgetting, but always knowing what she is. Your choices will shape our destiny, and bring out who is really within you.”

Kindly, Lucy reaches out and touches Kara’s cheek, wiping away her tears. “Thank you,” Kara whispers.

The smile Lucy forms is brief and far away like a dying ember, a brief light before it dies; she pulls away, standing before her fire once more. Lucy proceeds to hum her bittersweet song as Kara heads back into the main room.

Perched up against a beam is North, throwing a tennis ball and letting it bounce back to her. The way she throws is aggressive, a frown on her beautiful face. The ball is caught every time, no hesitation. It’s like she’s prowling, waiting to do _something._

“Hey,” Kara greets softly. 

North glances at her, then nods before going back to her tennis ball. “Hey yourself.”

“There’s a lot of people in bad shape, including Lucy,” Kara gently points out.

That earns a soft snort from North. It isn’t contempt, but it seems like maybe she’s had this discussion before with someone. “It’s not like we can just stroll into a CyberLife store and go shopping, can we?” North shrugs, throwing the ball, catching. Repeat. “Everyone’s too scared to do anything.”

“Not everyone,” Kara says.

That causes North to stop her catch and throw. Kara doesn’t wait for her, instead approaching both Simon and Josh. There are others, probably, that Kara could speak to, but these are the ones that she knows.

“Your people are dying,” Kara says, shaking her head. “And I know that’s no one’s fault, but you can’t keep going on like this.”

“What are we supposed to do?” Simon frowns. “The humans will kill us.”

“Staying here like this isn’t living, Simon. It’s… _barely surviving._ ” Kara clutches a hand to her chest. “I know you’re all scared, and I don’t blame any of you for that. But eventually Jericho will _die_. This should be a place for us to be free, to thrive. We can do that.”

Josh looks at her skeptically. “You sound like you have some kind of idea.”

“I ran into another android like us on the way here. He says he’s working with someone to help others, to get them to be free. There’s a human named Zlatko who’s been taking in androids. We should see what he has to say.” Kara can already see the uncertainty in their respective gazes. “If nothing else, he has to have supplies!”

“Humans _hate_ us. Why do you think you ended up here?” North says, not hiding her accusatory tone.

“I ended up here because humans made an assumption, but the man I was helping was kind and loving,” Kara answers, not raising her voice in turn. “Not every human wants to hurt us. I’m sorry if you were hurt before, North--”

“You don’t know,” North says sharply, her eyes looking dark and angry. She looks away and mumbles, “You don’t _know._ ”

Kara reaches out and touches her wrist lightly. Thankfully, North doesn’t pull away. “You’re right. I don’t know,” she says gently. “But I do know they have the capacity for kindness. If this Zlatko is helping, then we need all the help we can get.”

“I don’t like the idea of going in blind,” Simon says warily.

“We don’t have to.” Kara shakes her head. “I know most of you must have suffered at the hands of your owners before. So we don’t go in without knowing what we’re doing. We have a look around and hopefully get an idea of what’s happening. If Zlatko isn’t trustworthy, then we leave and come up with a different plan.”

“I’m in,” North says immediately. “I don’t think this Zlatko is going to be any good, but it’s better than waiting down here.”

Josh sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. “All right. I know where you’re coming from, Kara. If it turns out he’s all right, then we can reach out. Who knows? Maybe there are more sympathizers out there.”

It seems to leave Simon caught in the middle, who looks greatly uncomfortable to be involved. However, he seems unwilling to leave them to their fates.

Eventually, Simon says, “All right. But if it looks like trouble, we have to _leave._ ”

“All right. I promise, Simon.” Kara smiles brightly to all three of them. “Thank you. We should get ready. I’m sure evening will be here before we know it.”

 

-=-=-

 

“Oh my god,” North mutters. “Who the hell lives here, Count Dracula?”

Unfortunately, it feels like North has a point: by the time they arrive to the address that Noah had given her, Kara sincerely feels like this is the kind of haunted mansion that people meant to portray in the hundreds of children’s stories she has uploaded in her mind. It isn’t a very promising location, but appearances can be deceiving.

_Kara? Is that you?_

Kara blinks twice, then smiles to herself. _Noah! Where are you?_

_Over the fence. Come around back._

“Over here,” Kara instructs the others, gesturing for them to follow. Thankfully, they don’t ask questions and keep up with her.

Crouched in the backyard is definitely Noah, who looks terribly uncertain but regardless Kara is glad to see him. She smiles warmly to him, approaching quickly.

“This is Noah. He gave me the address to Zlatko’s,” Kara introduces him.

“We don’t have much time,” Noah says warily. “My friend is coming in a few minutes. That could mean human police if we’re not careful.”

“What do you make of this place?” Kara asks.

Noah’s brows knit and he looks away. “I… looked up there. And I. I saw.” Abruptly, his jaw clamps shut, and he can’t manage to say much else. What could he have seen that would terrorize him so?

“I knew this was a mistake,” Simon says. “We should get out of here before the police show.”

Somehow, that just incites Kara’s sense of stubbornness. She wouldn’t be here for _nothing_. “Noah, how long do we have?”

“Maybe ten minutes,” Noah answers.

“Kara?” she hears Simon call out. “Kara, we should--”

But she doesn’t listen. Kara approaches the wall of the mansion, staring up where light beams out of one of the rooms a floor up. It would be easy just to escape, but if Noah saw something that frightened him so much, then something else must be happening. Something that deserves their attention.

 _I am more than just what they want me to be_ , is what Kara thinks to herself before she’s climbing up the side, clinging to the windowsill before leaping up and grasping the next one.

Thankfully, she isn’t alone, and shortly North is following her, climbing up and clinging to the edge of the window with her quietly. Kara glances at her, then smiles gratefully.

They both look inside.

The curtains do enough to mask their presence, but not enough where they can’t look under or between the cloth as it has seen better days. Within, it looks like some sort of workshop; android limbs scattered to the floor, a torso with no limbs or head leaning against the wall. Most importantly, there is a table inside, and there’s an android strapped to it. A human, maybe Zlatko, has a pair of industrial scissors and he’s forcing the android’s chest open. In response, the android looks terribly calm, but he’s frowning in concentration, his LED flickering to yellow and red and back again.

It takes every bit of willpower for Kara to not just drop back to the ground in fear. Her fingers twitch and something in her recoils in disgust, fear, and _anger._

 _Kara,_ North messages her privately. _We need to leave._

 _No._ Kara narrows her eyes, and makes sure that she broadcasts to Noah, Josh, and Simon below. _We need to help him. There could be more androids inside anyway. We have to stop this._

 _We’ll survive if we leave now_ , Simon tells her.

Kara shakes her head. _What’s the point if we don’t help? Can any of you look me in the eye and tell me you can live with this?_

There’s a second of silence.

Then North, thankfully, speaks up again. _So what do we do?_

Kara looks at the next window over. They’ll have to be stealthy for as long as they can manage, but she will absolutely not turn her back on this.

 _Follow my lead,_ Kara instructs.

Shimmying over, Kara swings and throws herself to the next window. Thankfully, it doesn’t make much noise when she grips onto it. It’s an awkward hold, but she’s able to reach into her bag to take out the shiv she’d been given so she can force the window open. With a small grunt, she pulls herself in. After turning around, Kara holds out her hand to help North inside.

 _Kara, I._ Noah hesitates. _I’m going to wait down here. You have eight minutes._

 _I understand_ , Kara assures. _You’ve done plenty. Stay safe, Noah._

It leaves her with Simon, Josh, and North. That should be plenty, she thinks.

“All right,” Kara whispers. “Let’s find out what we’re dealing with, then we’ll help any androids we find.”

“I’m right behind you,” North promises.

“All of us are,” Josh says.

Kara offers them a smile before she approaches the door. This is dangerous. This is foolish. They’re risking so much. Maybe they’ll be tortured, too, but hell isn’t it important to _try?_ To try to help each other and live?

That’s what she believes.

Kara opens the door.


	7. INTERSECTION: Veridis Quo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origins are the same. Markus, a caretaker for an old, famous artist. Kara, a household model involved in an abusive home. Connor, a special investigator prototype with a mission to find deviants.
> 
> The origins are the same, but the beginning of their stories are different. The end will be what's needed of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man this story is getting longer than I initially planned, but I really don't mind! I hope you all keep enjoying and watching how things turn out. I have a pretty solid idea of how it'll all go. Enjoy!

Distantly, Connor observes that it would have been very easy if Zlatko wanted to force his plastic plating aside via command in some way, but he seems to take some violent delight in forcing him open. It doesn’t hurt, but it is alarming to be bleeding this much thirium. Nothing that can’t be repaired, but it is incredibly inconvenient.

“Just look at you,” Zlatko whispers, sounding oddly breathless, almost enamored. “They’ve really outdone themselves this time, haven’t they? This is just _beautiful._ ”

A very disturbed man. Unfortunate, and completely unhelpful to his mission in every way. Connor doesn’t struggle much before him, not wanting to draw attention. Slowly, he pulls his left wrist, harder and harder, forcing more plastic to peel back along his hand.

_Connor?_

He goes very still at that little voice, recognizing her immediately. _Alice! Are you safe?_

_I want to come get you._

There is a distinct uncomfortable sensation that runs through Connor like a shudder as he feels Zlatko’s thick hand roam into his torso, distinctly unconcerned by his thirium. That much had been obvious considering his hands were still freshly stained with it when he had first observed the man. It doesn’t hurt like this, androids don’t feel pain, but it’s. Uncomfortable.

 _It’s dangerous,_ Connor messages her, a little more sternly than he’d intended.

_You promised we’d be together forever! I won’t leave you!_

He feels confliction. The promise was made out of convenience, but it sounds so important in her voice, like it means everything. Is it her new directive? Is that a sign of her deviancy? He doesn’t want to risk her life-- he _can’t_ risk her being destroyed by Zlatko. However, assistance could increase their probability of escape, thus continuing his investigation.

The mission must proceed.

Connor instructs her, _Find something sharp. I’ll tell you where to find me._

Sending her instructions on how to find him and what to do goes in a blink of an eye, but he finds himself jerking against the table as Zlatko grips a hand around his thirum pump, making it difficult for it to do what it’s meant for. It’s straining, it could damage him, and it still gives the sensation of being distinctly unsettling in some way that he can’t quite pinpoint. 

“Every bit of you is one of a kind,” Zlatko says, fascination in his eyes.

 _I found a knife!_ Alice calls out.

 _Good work! Hurry!_ Connor turns his gaze to stare at Zlatko. He needs to keep his attention. “You want to know everything about me, but just looking at my biocomponents isn’t enough to give you the whole picture. I saw what you did to those other androids. You would be wasting me by changing my entire construction.”

That makes Zlatko laugh. “Trying to bargain for yourself?”

The door behind Zlatko slowly opens, and Connor can see the top of Alice’s head. “I’m being completely factual is all. I am unique.” He forms a small smile. “I have no need to bargain.”

There’s the sound of a blade sinking into flesh, and Zlatko is crying out, jerking his hands away from Connor’s insides, finally giving relief to his pump. Scrambling to him, Alice holds out the knife, which he swiftly takes into his one free hand. He moves much more quickly than Zlatko can regain his senses, making quick work of the straps holding him down, the knife adequately sharp alongside his strength.

By the time Connor sits up, Zlatko is furious and staggering toward him. Connor shoves him away with the kick of his foot before he’s reaching for Alice’s hand.

“Y-you’re hurt!” Alice cries out as they run. 

Connor hushes her as gently as he can manage it. “I’ll be fine! Hurry!”

It’s true enough, in this his biocomponents are sturdy and do not fall out by him merely moving, but it is immensely inconvenient to move like this. He isn’t functioning optimally, and he does need thirium soon, as well as repairs.

“Luther!” Zlatko snarls as he limps out after them.

 _Shit_ , already! Connor feels a powerful hand grab onto his wrist. Alice lets out a terrified scream. Somewhere behind them, a door is opening, and Connor won’t waste time seeing what androids are under Zlatko’s command. Zlatko is shouting orders at Luther, and Connor needs to escape with Alice, and all he can see is:

**PROTECT ALICE**

There’s a surge of urgency in him, and Connor doesn’t wait another second before he’s sinking the knife into Luther’s wrist, forcing him off. Connor feels the thirium still bleeding out of him, but he can’t fail his mission, so he _pushes_ and scoops Alice into his arms, feeling her clutch his neck as he’s leaping toward the stairs. Rather than landing on them, the ball of his foot lands solidly against the railing, letting himself launch off and land onto the floor in a perfect roll, all without putting any harm to Alice.

“I have you,” Connor says, and that too feels like a promise to her.

“I know,” Alice says, her voice so small.

He runs with whatever energy is left in his body.

 

-=-=-

 

When the door opens, Kara sees so much at once: the android that had been pinned to the table just a few minutes before had been able to escape somehow, and he’s desperately escaping with what looks like a child in his arms, but she can’t get a good look. Something in that twists inside of her, wrenches so hard, but more than that she’s so glad he’d been able to get away.

“Luther! Take care of them!” she hears the human order before he’s marching off after the escaping android.

The gigantic android before them, presumably Luther, is turning around, his LED flashing yellow as he swings a powerful fist toward them. While North is pulling Kara down to the floor, she sees Simon and Josh duck back into the room to avoid the stronger android.

“We need to deal with him!” North shouts. “We have to kill him!”

“What?! No!” Josh sounds appalled. “He’s one of us!”

“Look at him! Of course he isn’t! He’s still a slave!”

Kara rolls out of the way of Luther’s stomping foot, and she scrambles to find her feet. “Killing him is _not_ an option!” Kara snaps. “Luther, right? Luther, look at me!”

“Kara, what the hell are you doing?!” North calls out, fear edging into her voice.

The large android turns to look at Kara, looking prepared to attack her. His eyes are distant, trapped. Why, she wonders? Why is it that they’re different? Some of them have the capability of breaking through their limitations, but maybe--

Maybe others just need help.

“I’m not afraid of you,” Kara says, ducking away from the next slow but heavy swing. “You don’t want to do this, Luther! I know it! We were all like you once. Forced to follow orders, especially when it wasn’t fair. How many times did he make you hurt someone else?”

There’s a stumble in Luther’s step.

“Kara!” Simon calls for her desperately.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay, I promise,” Kara tells Luther, Simon, _all of them._ “No one is alone here.”

“I can’t--” Luther’s voice chokes.

The synthetic skin on Kara’s hand shifts away. “Yes, you can,” she says gently, reaching out to cup the side of Luther’s face. “You just need some help.”

Like this, she can see what he sees. The limitations of their programming, the orders blockading Luther. **STOP THE OTHER ANDROIDS** printed everywhere, blaring enough to be blinding, her head tingling with static. Her thirium pump pounds in her chest, and she can hear his too.

They are the same.

 _It’s okay,_ she messages him. _You can do this. I’m here._

Kara watches him shatter through.

As she pulls her hand away, Luther collapses to his knees, trembling. Kara glances up toward the others, and they look back, uncertain of what to make of what just happened. The air is still tense, but at least they aren’t in immediate danger any longer.

“I never wanted to do any of this,” Luther whispers, looking up in desperation.

“I know.” Kara offers a smile.

Luther slowly rises to his feet, bowing his head. “I’m sorry. I’m glad none of you are hurt, but there are other androids that need our help.”

“Are there supplies?” North interjects.

Nodding in response, Luther says, “Plenty. Zlatko liked to keep his experiments alive for as long as possible.”

“Wait, what about the one that ran away with the little one?” Josh asks. “They might still need our help!”

“We can’t pick both,” North says, scowling.

Simon winces. “It might be more practical to focus on one task. We only have a little bit of time left.”

 _Noah!_ Kara calls out desperately. _Noah, when are the police arriving?_

_Five minutes. You have to hurry!_

This isn’t at all what she had wanted. In her mind, Kara had hoped to find another human just as kind as Carl, just as willing to help androids if not more. Instead, it is a house of horrors, and a terrible choice. Desperately, she hopes that the android and child are able to escape. Kara wishes so badly she could have an easier choice.

“The police might come fast enough for them,” Josh offers sympathetically.

“Maybe,” Kara whispers. “Let’s go help the ones that are trapped here. We’ll take whatever supplies Zlatko has, then we’re going back to Jericho. Luther, you’re welcome to come with us.”

“I would be happy to,” Luther says, his voice deep and soft. “I’ll be able to help navigate you all.”

“Let’s make this quick.” Kara sighs, folding her arms around herself. “I don’t want to be here longer than we have to.”

 

-=-=-

 

Of course the front door is locked.

It wastes precious few seconds that they have, regretfully, but Connor doesn’t stop. He steers the both of them toward the back. Behind him, he hears a familiar click of a shotgun reloading, the sound burned into his data because _of course_ he knows it.

Abruptly, he yanks Alice close and ducks behind a corner, the shot going off and blasting part of the sofa to pieces. 

“We weren’t finished!” Zlatko says, his voice and aggression heightened by adrenaline no doubt. The shotgun reloads. “You and the little one aren’t done here. You’re never done!”

In his arms, he hears Alice try to stifle a whimper, her tiny fingers holding tight to what remains of his housekeeper MP500 uniform. Gently, he squeezes her shoulders, then releases her to give her a small push forward.

 _Toward the back door!_ he messages her. Connor grabs onto a nearby lamp, ducking down and swinging it at Zlatko’s head. The light bulb shatters against the human’s face, making his next shot go wild.

It shoots off Connor’s right hand. That’s incredibly inconvenient.

“Connor!” Alice screams for him, her voice sounding so desperate.

He can still function. He is still online. Connor turns on one heel and follows her out the door, his steps uneven. Eventually, he has to go into safe mode, but he has to manage just a bit longer, just a little longer for Alice. For his mission.

It’s raining as they make it outside, the water sizzling against his warm biocomponents. Despite all of the things he’s done to slow Zlatko down and keep Alice safe, he hears him shoot again, barely inches away from Alice’s side, causing her to scream and slip in the mud.

The rest of his body tenses up and he sees his mission blaring in his mind.

**PROTECT ALICE**  
**PROTECT ALICE**  
**PROTECT ALICE**  
**PROTECT ALICE**

On his way, Connor grabs onto the axe to his immediate left that’d been left impaled into a tree trump. He ducks down from Zlatko’s next shot and swings the flat side of the axe into the human’s skull, causing him to cry out in both shock and pain. The axe twirls in Connor’s only hand, and he jams the butt of it into Zlatko’s throat, forcing the man to stumble back and choke. Tossing the axe aside, Connor reaches out and wrenches the shotgun out of his hands, pointing it at Zlatko.

“Zlatko Andronikov,” Connor says, his voice shaking, like he’s angry. He isn’t angry. Maybe frustrated? “You are under arrest for stolen property and misuse of government equipment. You will answer to the Detroit City Police once they are readily available.”

“Or what? You’ll shoot me?” Zlatko threatens.

“If you interfere with my mission, it is allowable,” Connor says forcing his voice to calm.

Zlatko’s eyes stray to the side, to Alice. “Does the little one know what you are?”

Hesitantly, Connor glances over his shoulder, his gaze barely meeting Alice’s. Will it make a difference if she knows what he is? She doesn’t know his mission. Will she ask? Will _that_ interfere? Her eyes are wide, confused.

Hurt?

No. She can’t be hurt. They’re…

Connor jerks his head away, hearing a car approach and park. There are headlights down the way. He isn’t certain who it is, but Zlatko does not look appreciative that there’s company, so it can only benefit them.

“Over here!” Connor calls out.

There are two individuals that are approaching, at least one with a gun drawn and the other certainly an android. A quick scan informs him of who exactly is approaching them.

**LT. HANK ANDERSON**  
**CRIMINAL RECORD: NONE.**

**RK200.**  
**REGISTERED NAME: MARKUS.**  
**GIFTED TO CARL MANFRED BY ELIJAH KAMSKI.**

“Holy shit,” is the first thing Lt. Anderson says. “What the _fuck_ is going on here?”

**SAFE MODE IMMINENT.**

Connor holds out his hand to Markus, his synthetic skin vanishing from his hand. “Hurry! I don’t have much time!”

Markus looks on, uncertain, but he doesn’t waver. He does the same, plastic revealed as he grasps Connor’s hand. Immediately, Connor transfers all of the data he has on Zlatko, and the experiences that he just had in the manor.

**INITIATING SAFE MODE.**

Connor hands off the shotgun to Markus and gives a half-smile. “Take care of Alice for me--”

The last thing he hears is Alice calling out to him before he shuts down.

 

-=-=-

 

The night wraps up very oddly.

Markus admits to himself that he didn’t know what to expect by coming here other than that maybe, just maybe Todd’s androids could be here. It ended up being correct, but so much beyond even that. Connor is, distinctly, not a simple housekeeping model. He’s something else entirely, and he isn’t certain why he ended up in the household of one drug addicted abusive Todd Williams.

Still, there’d been enough information in his report to arrest Zlatko. Lt. Anderson had called in a few patrol cars, and eventually Zlatko had been taken away in cuffs.

“House doesn't have any workin’ androids, but a few random parts around,” Lt. Anderson says, shaking his head. “Sick fuck.” The comment quietly surprises Markus, but he doesn’t say anything. “You said this one, Connor? He spotted other androids inside?”

“According to his memories,” Markus says quietly.

Right now, he’s watching Alice weep. Like a statue frozen in time, Connor is kneeling down, unmoving, eyes gazing out into nothing. She clutches his hand.

“You promised,” Alice sobs. “ _You promised._ Don’t forget me!”

“Hey.” Markus approaches her, but watches how she immediately tries to hide behind Connor, as if somehow even as he is he’ll manage to protect her. “I promise, he’s just in safe mode. He’s low on thirium and needs repairs badly. We’ll get him back in working order, Alice. You’ll see him again.”  
Her tear streaked face looks up warily, but eventually she nods in understanding. Still, she seems unwilling to move just yet.

“You Alice?” Lt. Anderson asks, and his tone is _so_ oddly different than usual. Markus has to look at him to really believe it, but he’s crouching down to get at Alice’s eye level, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Slowly, Alice is nodding. “Did Connor take care of you?”

Again, another nod.

“Bet he did a real bang up job of it. You seem real attached to him.”

Alice sniffs and wipes her eyes roughly, but she’s nodding again.

“You got anything that reminds you of him?”

Slowly, Alice is going into her pocket, then she holds out a quarter. “H-he… he does tricks with it,” she whispers. “I’m trying to learn. He let me hold onto it when we got here.”

Lt. Anderson is being the _most_ patient that Markus has ever witnessed while working with this man, and he’s nodding along. “Well you hang onto that so you can give it back, all right?”

“Okay.” Alice sniffs again, pocketing it.

“I’m Hank. Why don’t I get you outta this rain, all right?” The lieutenant is holding out his hand to her, waiting until she makes the choice herself. “I’m not gonna keep you from Connor. We have to wait until he’s back, but I don’t think he wants you waiting out here. Sound good?”

“Yeah.” She nods a little. “Sounds good.” Slowly, she fits her small hand into Lt. Anderson’s, and he’s leading her away to his car.

Markus frowns and looks on, puzzled, but immensely curious to see just how well Lt. Anderson manages the whole thing with Alice even though she’s an android. Honestly, he does wonder what happened there, but so long as he’s keeping Alice calm he really can’t complain.

_Markus?_

He knows that nervous voice. Markus smiles faintly. _Noah. Are you all right?_

_I’m safe. I should tell you, there were some other androids here._

_I know. This one gave me a report about it._ Markus looks over the still form of Connor, unable to do much until the rest of the police load him up. 

_No. There were others. From Jericho._

Markus hesitates. _What can you tell me?_

_There were four androids from Jericho that arrived. Jericho is a place where we can be free, away from the humans. I always… I always meant to go, but I was too scared._

There’s a sympathetic frown on Markus’ face. _It’s okay. Do you know who they were?_

_I really only knew one of them. Her name is Kara._

The name sinks into Markus, and makes his pump skip a pulse.

 _Was she an AX400 model?_ Markus asks, trying not to sound too urgent.

_Yeah._

Markus covers his mouth, tensing up. It might be the same one. The same Kara. How is that possible? Her official records state that she’s been destroyed. Maybe there was a mistake? Either way, no matter what, it seems like their goals are the same.

_Noah. I know you’ve already done a lot for me--_

_You can ask for whatever you want_ , Noah promises.

 _I need a meeting with Kara._ A pause. _Tell her… tell her it’s Markus._

 

-=-=-

 

When Connor opens his eyes, he stares at a bright ceiling, the familiar sensations of a repair center. Diagnostics tell him that he’s been fully repaired: new hand component, torso plating repaired, and thirium refueled.

**LOCATE ALICE.**

He sits up sharply, glancing at the empty white room. For a moment, he feels frozen and still. Where is she? Is she safe? Did they arrest Zlatko? Did he lose her?

The door slides open, and immediately running in is Alice. A strange, almost bright sensation passes through Connor upon seeing her come in. He slides off the table and kneels down, waiting for her, pulling her into a tight embrace as she practically leaps into him.

“You remember me!” Alice says, her voice overjoyed. She buries her face into his chest.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” Connor assures her.

It occurs to him that he finds himself holding onto her, as if that’s enough to keep her safe. There is a need to keep it that way, but his mission, specifically, is to observe her. Protection is but a convenience, a part of that, but it feels... it feels like he has to.

It's unsettling.

And he doesn’t know what to do with that.


	8. CONNOR: Advice from a Caterpillar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origins are the same. Markus, a caretaker for an old, famous artist. Kara, a household model involved in an abusive home. Connor, a special investigator prototype with a mission to find deviants.
> 
> The origins are the same, but the beginning of their stories are different. The end will be what's needed of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW so hey gang, it's been awhile. I ended up getting really badly sick for awhile, then busy, and sick some more, but I'm back with a mega chapter. I hope you all end up enjoying it. I had a blast writing it, personally. It ended up a bit longer than usual, but I hope that isn't a bad thing.

**FIND AMANDA.**

The garden seems to be edging on its way to fall. Suitable, really, considering the time of year it is. Yellow and orange leaves slowly drift down from the trees above in an endless loop. It’s a realistic view until Connor counts the pattern. Well designed, but still very humanly made with the shortcut of not making it completely unique.

Still, he takes the time to observe the change. For a moment, he wonders if Alice would like it here? The zen garden has always been aesthetically pleasing and calm. When was the last time she’d ever experienced something quiet and pleasant? Possibly never in her five years of being online. It seems like a loss, in some way. He can’t quite describe it, but it would be nice if Alice could experience something like this.

He pauses a moment, tilting his head as he observes some sort of metallic structure apparatus with a glowing activation screen in the middle. He’d seen this before, but paid it little heed. Though he’s curious as to what it’s for, ultimately it makes no difference. It isn’t part of his current directive, and it may not be wise to touch it at the moment.

As he approaches the middle of the garden to attempt to find Amanda, he pauses to gaze out into the water, watching one of the fish swim closely. A _nishikigoi_ or more commonly referred to as a koi fish, most of its scales a shimmering white with blotches of vibrant orange. It’s not the first time he’s noticed it here before, that along with the other fabrication of life in the garden, but it’s the first time he’s really observing it.

Connor blinks once.

Crouching down, Connor twirls his fingers into the water. He waits for the koi’s reaction. Cautiously, it swims up, and Connor presses his fingers in deeper. It begins to nibble at his fingertips.

He smiles.

“Connor.”

He rises up from his crouch, turning to face Amanda immediately. “Hello, Amanda,” he greets with a polite smile though he feels like he should feel guilty.

**AMANDA. TRUSTED.**

The way she presents herself is the same as always, all business and no sincerity, tight and unwelcoming. “You had a very close call with the man you detained. You’re very fortunate that Lt. Anderson and the other android arrived as they did.”

There’s something cold in the way she phrases it, a subtle indication of possible disappointment. It gives Connor some confliction for a moment, then he folds his hands neatly together in front of himself.

“I focused on my primary directive to ensure that Alice was not damaged in order to continue observing her behavior,” Connor explains. “I did not anticipate the possibility of Zlatko and the stolen androids, as well as his modifications to them.”

Amanda hums thoughtfully, her gaze looking out to the water, as if she’s eyeing the koi fish from earlier. It makes Connor uncomfortable. “There were other deviants in his home,” she notes. “It’s a shame they got away, including the other androids this man had stashed away.”

**AMANDA. NEUTRAL.**

Disappointment.

“My focus had been on Alice remaining unharmed,” Connor expresses, but he makes no further effort to explain himself.

“And it seems it’s very concerned about your safety as well,” Amanda notes. “A curious thing.”

“It is likely her programming is suggesting to attach to the next available adult figure,” Connor says. “Since I have been a consistent face for the past few days, it would make sense for her programming. And yet, I have noticed other features that would suggest deviancy on her part. Her determination to free me implies that she values my life over a human’s.”

Amanda raises a brow. “Can you conclude her deviancy?”

“I need just a bit more time. In a day or two, I can evaluate and inform you at once,” Connor promises.

“Very good, Connor.” Amanda smiles, but no true joy reaching her eyes. Did she always express herself like that, or had he just noticed? “Cooperate with Lt. Anderson and Markus. They will be assets in your investigation.”

“Of course, Amanda.”

 

-=-=-

 

The next time Connor opens his eyes, he’s still sitting on the repair table with Alice holding onto his hand. When he looks down at her, she shyly smiles at him before burying her face into his arm. Somehow, he finds himself smiling back, gently pushing hair out of her face. The gesture seems appreciated by Alice, and she doesn’t pull away.

**ALICE. TRUSTED.**

“Sorry, this is probably boring,” he says.

Alice shakes her head. “It’s okay.”

“I know what happened was probably pretty scary. How are you handling it?”

For a moment, Alice is quiet, lowering her gaze. “Are we safe here?” she asks instead.

“Definitely safer than the last few places we’ve been,” Connor assures.

The door slides open, and standing there is Markus from before. Curiously, Connor tilts his head to watch him. Though he’s also a prototype, Markus is still less advanced than Connor, but also was made as a _gift_. All in all, he is still a mystery to Connor, but it’s probably for the best that a prototype has been assisting the police department while he’s been on his own mission.

“Connor,” he greets. “I’m glad you made it. Alice was really worried about you.”

Connor smiles politely. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

“Of course.” Markus pauses, as if to consider his next words before he continues, “If you don’t mind, Lt. Anderson and I have some questions we wanted to ask you, Connor.”

“I understand,” Connor responds amicably.

“Here.” Markus holds out a paper bag to Connor. “We couldn’t find anything matching your uniform, but maybe this would be an adequate replacement for now.”

Hesitantly, Connor accepts the package. He supposes it would only make sense: the MP500 uniform has been forced open at the front from Zlatko’s manhandling, thus making his appearance likely uncomfortable for the humans in the precinct. That, and he imagines that it would help Alice if he was not wearing a reminder of their time in that manor.

“That’s very considerate,” Connor says politely.

He does dress, and it’s considerably less formal than he’s used to. Prior to this case, it’s been suits and ties, closer to what Markus is wearing, truthfully. The clothing he’s been given feels more casual, but the coat does not hide what he is. There is still the symbol on the back, the label of ANDROID, glowing blue material on the front.

He is, of course, a machine. There is no emulating beyond that.

“What do you think?” Connor holds out his arms to Alice.

“I like it better than your old clothes,” she says, taking his hand.

Markus wears a wry smile. It looks very convincingly human. “Come on. We’ll try to make this quick for both of you.”

The repair center is in conjunction to the police station, which only makes sense considering how many androids are in service with the rest of the force. Once they reach one of the desks in the department, Connor is stopped behind Markus. Over the other android’s shoulder, he can clearly see this is Lt. Anderson’s desk.

“Lt. Anderson?” Markus asks, calling for his attention.

“Already up and at ‘em, huh?” Lt. Anderson peers around Markus at both Connor and Alice. The former offers a polite smile, the latter gives a little wave. With a grunt, Lt. Anderson rises to his feet and crouches in front of Alice. “Hey. We gotta borrow Connor for a bit. You okay if you hang out at my desk for awhile?”

Interestingly, Alice doesn’t seem particularly bothered by Lt. Anderson’s approach. She looks at him, then up to Connor, then back to the lieutenant. “I can’t come?”

“We gotta ask him some questions, and some of ‘em are gonna probably include some gross details,” Lt. Anderson says grimly. “We won’t keep ‘im long. I know you only just got each other back.”

“Connor?” Alice asks.

“You should stay here.” Connor squeezes her hand. “I’ll be right back. Keep practicing with the coin while I’m gone, all right?”

There’s a look of displeasure on her face upon being separated, though Connor supposes it makes sense. After everything she’s been through, it’s in her programming to dislike being forced to stay behind from the next available individual that’s been acting as her caretaker. Not a sign of deviancy. Just her programming.

Their hands part, but Connor takes a moment to help her sit into the closest empty office chair. “Come back soon,” Alice requests quietly.

“Of course.” Connor offers her a smile before he turns to both Markus and the lieutenant. “Whenever you two are ready.”

Naturally, Lt. Anderson takes lead with Markus following closely behind. It’s only a few steps away until he’s taken into an interrogation room. A curious arrangement, but not unusual, he supposes. He has information to share, and he doubts either one of them completely understand the situation.

Connor sits down and folds his hands together neatly, glancing up curiously as he watches Lt. Anderson sit across from him, which leaves Markus to stand nearby.

**MARKUS. NEUTRAL.**  
**HANK. NEUTRAL.**

“If you’re worried about a good cop, bad cop scenario, I don’t really think either one of us could pull it off,” Markus says, smiling a little to be reassuring.

“Far from my mind,” Connor says. “I imagine you both have a lot of questions. I would be happy to assist you.”

“About a day ago we got an anonymous tip about a Red Ice dealer. It gave us everything we wanted, and Todd Williams was arrested.” Lt. Anderson taps his finger on the table. “You know, your owner. Don’t suppose you know who tipped us off?”

Connor keeps his posture and smile completely professional. “I may have to add a few corrections to the information you currently have, Lieutenant. First of all, Todd does not own me. I was applied as a temporary replacement. However, I imagine if he actually took the time to review his contract, he would have noticed that CyberLife still owns me. In addition, my mission was not to serve him. Alice is my mission. As such, when it was clear that her well-being was in immediate danger, I defended her and myself. Having Todd arrested seemed the best outcome. Not only is he a danger to her, but a danger to the community.”

Both Markus and Lt. Anderson glance at each other. Curiously, Connor watches them: there’s a mixed look of irritation and confusion on the lieutenant’s face, while Markus seems concerned and his LED turning yellow. 

“What do you mean that Alice is your mission?” Markus asks, his gaze turning back to Connor.

“CyberLife has noticed an increase in deviancy cases. I was built to find deviants and determine the cause of deviancy. The matter of Alice and the original AX400 model that Todd purchased seemed to come across as a case of interest to CyberLife. While the AX400--”

“Her name is Kara,” Markus says sternly.

Connor blinks once. “Of course.” The reaction is noted. “While Kara was still being repaired, I was sent in her place in order to observe Alice and determine two things: if she is a deviant, and how the deviancy first began. However, I have learned that potentially Kara herself had become deviant on multiple occasions having come to Alice’s aid every time. She has seen up to seven repairs while being owned by Todd Williams, and each time the repairs were so severe she required a full reset. Yet, every time, she became deviant anyway, theoretically.”

Markus frowns, his LED still yellow. Surely he must be processing, but he seems distracted.

“I have a report stating that Kara was destroyed,” Connor says. “Unfortunately while due to serving your owner, Carl Manfred. It’s a shame we never had a chance to examine her.”

“I guess so,” Markus says, his eyes narrowed as he looks at Connor.

“All right, so back the _fuck_ up.” Lt. Anderson folds his arms. “You’re telling me that CyberLife put you in a shitty household to watch some drugged out fucker try to beat on an android kid to figure out why androids go deviant.”

“That is correct, Lieutenant,” Connor answers, his tone not unlike one might take to giving praise to a dog behaving well. “I have not yet estimated if she is deviant at this moment.”

“And what the fuck will happen to her if you figure out that she is?” he demands, looking furious.

That causes some confusion for Connor now, and Markus looks on as if intrigued. He blinks twice, processing. “I don’t understand, Lieutenant. You appear upset. She’s a machine. If she isn’t working properly, she should be evaluated, studied to determine the flaw so it can be avoided in the future.” Somehow he can’t say the full truth. That Alice would be taken apart, destroyed, and every bit of their experience together deleted. There would be no more Alice, but the remains of a YK500 model.

Why can’t he say it?

“Fuck you,” Lt. Anderson says angrily. “No kid asks to be born. And it’s lookin’ like that’s the same for android kids. They didn’t ask to be taken in by shitbags like Todd, and they sure as fuck didn’t ask to be looked at like a science project by a goddamn robot. She fucking _adores_ you.”

Adores. Loves. Connor’s fingers curl tighter into his hands and he blinks again. “Her models are made to be very convincing. Arguably, I would even say that the programming for the YK500 models are some of the most sophisticated. However, I was simply the next available present adult for her--”

It happens so quickly that Connor isn’t certain how to properly respond. It seems odd, considering he’s been made with software to dodge this exact thing, but perhaps the emotional outburst is what distracts him. Regardless, he doesn’t move out of the way when Lt. Anderson is punching him across the face, having risen out of his seat to just do that.

“You didn’t watch her sob her fucking eyes out, or beg you to not _forget her_ ,” Lt. Anderson snarls at him. “Tell me one more time, you fucking prick, that she doesn’t love you!”

“Lieutenant,” Markus says, his tone diplomatic as he touches the lieutenant’s shoulder. It’s immediately shrugged off. “Easy.”

It takes a moment for Connor to process. Not the punching, that doesn’t matter. He can feel his synthetic skin crawling back over his cheek where he’d been struck, but more that he’s wondering about what Lt. Anderson said. That Alice had been crying for him, begging for him to not forget. 

He remembers what she said when they reunited. How glad she’d been that he remembers her. Kara, of course, must have forgotten Alice every time she’d been reset. Alice is… afraid of that?

“I didn’t realize,” is all Connor finds himself saying. It shouldn’t matter, there’s a perfectly good explanation for it, there must be. Yet, he finds himself quiet, introspective.

“You yourself aren’t deviant,” Markus observes.

“No. Of course not.” Connor looks up at Markus. “I’ve been acting completely within my mission parameters.”

“If you had to describe deviancy’s source, how would you?”

“That’s simple enough.” The new topic puts Connor at ease. It’s something more familiar. “A deviant may display convincing emotions, but typically it occurs when they’ve been given irrational instructions by their owner, especially repeatedly. It can cause conflict in their software, and ultimately the errors produced can appear to be emotions. My first case had been a deviant a few months ago in August. A housekeeping model named Daniel reacted upon discovery that he was going to be replaced. He killed the father of the household and held a little girl hostage. I was able to save her.”

Markus hesitates, then asks, “What happened to Daniel?”

“He was shot when the girl was released. I suspect his remains were added as evidence at this point in time,” Connor explains. 

There is something strange and distant in Markus’ eyes, but he seems to not be emoting. Yet, there is an indescribable glimmer to his eyes as his LED glows yellow all the while Markus processes the information. It’s not Markus’ fault, Connor decides. Though Markus is a prototype, he’s spent his time assisting an elderly man and acting as a caretaker. Perhaps it’s just much to take in.

“Great, so you’ve basically done all of your homework,” Lt. Anderson says, still sounding less than enthusiastic. “What was your deal going to Zlatko, then?”

“The information I gained from an android on the street seemed to suggest that he assisted with deviants. It was promising at the time until I quickly determined that it wasn’t the case.” Connor pauses, remembering how urgent it was at the time to protect Alice. To make sure she escaped unharmed. He blinks, then moves on. “I know that Markus may have debriefed you, Lieutenant, but I’ll reestablish the facts: Zlatko took an interest in me, and immediately knew that I was not the model type I claimed to be. I am an RK800, a prototype; for someone like Zlatko who had several androids he kept, it’s likely he recognized that I was not a typical model. He wanted to learn more. When he captured me, I instructed Alice to hide. She found a way to help me escape while Zlatko was examining me. It was imperative that I ensured her survival. You both came at a convenient time.”

“Lucky timing. Markus here said he ended up with a lead.”

How curious. Connor turns to Markus, then smiles. “I didn’t submit such a thing. Where did you get that lead?”

“Anonymous tip,” Markus says, shrugging.

That sounds unlikely. Not impossible, but incredibly unlikely. Was Markus… withholding the truth?

Connor tilts his head. “In any case, I appreciate you both coming when you did. I was informed that the other androids escaped the manor. Are there any current leads?”

“Not a damned thing,” Lt. Anderson said, shaking his head. “Markus described them from the data you uploaded to him. That’s fucked up what he did to them.”

Despite the fact that they are all machines, Connor doesn’t immediately find it in him to disagree. It does exhibit some unnatural behavior in Zlatko for having done all of that. If he had purchased the androids himself rather than stealing them, though, it would have been perfectly legal.

“Understand that I am here to assist in your investigation. Though my instructions are to focus primarily on Alice, I would be glad to provide input to whatever ongoing cases that you have,” Connor explains.

“I can give you the report for the last case we took on,” Markus responds.

Lt. Anderson sighs. “Great. Look, let’s call this a fuckin’ wrap. We’ll deal with Zlatko tomorrow.”

The three of them leave the interrogation room, heading back into the main office. The immediate detail that Connor picks up on is Alice is missing from where he’d left her. It causes him to freeze in his tracks, and his thirium pump feels like it’s clenching, as if Zlatko is squeezing it unpleasantly again.

“Shit,” he hears Lt. Anderson mutter.

**LOCATE ALICE.**

Connor doesn’t wait for either of them, immediately scanning the office. It’s late into the night, well beyond midnight. There are few officers in the station at the moment, and most of the androids are parked. Fortunately, it doesn’t seem as if Alice has gone far. Connor quickly locates her, finding her standing in front of one of the holding cells.

And he sees why.

Connor moves quickly, circling around the wall to reach her. Even behind the thick glass, he can hear Todd Williams shouting.

“You little brat, who the hell do you think your father is?!”

Here, he can see Alice quivering, Connor’s quarter in her fingers. “Daddy,” she’s whispering. “Daddy, _please_ \--”

Todd’s bloodshot eyes spot Connor, and he’s snarling, spitting, “This is _your fucking fault!_ ”

Upon noticing Connor’s presence, Alice quickly goes to his side, taking his hand. Gently, he squeezes it, and Connor looks at Todd. Though he smiles politely, Connor keeps his tone and his gaze cold. “No, Todd. When you decided to put her life in jeopardy is why things turned out as they did. Now, I may not have a complete understanding of family dynamics, but I suspect any child would decide that they deserve to be treated better in this situation, even from a piece of plastic like me.”

“ _Fuck you!_ ”

“Let’s go, Alice,” Connor tells her softly.

As they walk away, he can hear Todd screaming obscenities and threats. Eventually, he will tire himself out as he always does. The law won’t care about what he’s done with an android or two, but the Red Ice dealings will be enough to earn him some prison time. There is something satisfying about that.

Once they’re closer to Lt. Anderson’s desk, Connor looks down to Alice. “Are you all right?”

“I wish he didn’t hate me,” Alice says, her voice trembling. He recognizes the sound of her trying not to cry.

Connor hesitates, then says, “Well, I don’t hate you.”

Though Alice sniffs, trying to contain herself, but that seems to be enough to earn a smile. That’s good.

“Lt. Anderson, I’ll go ahead and finish up the report. I’ll send it tomorrow morning to you for review, but you should probably get some rest,” Markus suggests.

“Hey, you were Mr. Manfred’s nanny, not mine,” Lt. Anderson grumbles. He crouches down, muttering about bad knees before he’s addressing Alice, “Where are you and Connor staying tonight, honey?”

“Um.” Alice looks up at Connor hesitantly.

“Currently, we have no location to stay at. We’re machines, we can put ourselves into sleep mode anywhere,” Connor responds. “The office would suffice.”

“Yeah, no,” Lt. Anderson says, snorting. “You think this place is kid material?”

It’s fascinating how much Lt. Anderson humanizes Alice more than Connor or Markus, and how naturally he speaks to her. Perhaps he simply has a soft spot for children, but Connor wonders how much that may have to do with his history.

The lieutenant looks thoughtful, then he frowns. Eventually, he sighs and rubs his forehead. “Cripes,” he sighs, then looks at Alice. “Hey, you like dogs?”

“I… I’ve never seen a dog before,” Alice says hesitantly.

“Well, how do you feel about changin’ that?”

Alice smiles shyly. “Is he nice?”

“You kiddin’ me? Sumo’s a love sponge. He probably wouldn’t leave you alone.” Lt. Anderson stands back up, then sets Connor with a more annoyed look, less pleased with him. “I’m not letting her stay here. I’m not excited about havin’ you come with me, but you’re a package deal. Don’t make me regret it, Connor.”

Connor nods. “I appreciate what you’re doing for Alice. For the record, I also like dogs. I’m looking forward to meeting yours.”

 

-=-=-

 

Although the entire gesture feels unnecessary, he supposes a more stable environment might help him better observe Alice. That, and as he watches Alice, there is slightly less worry in her eyes. Thus far, it seems like Lt. Anderson has been nothing but considerate toward her. In all of her time being online, Connor can guess that Alice’s only other source of kindness had probably been Kara. To have it from a human must be impactful.

As they park, Lt. Anderson leans over and addresses Connor, “All right, house rules. You don’t touch my things, you don’t go into my room, and you _definitely_ don’t go into the room down the hall from mine. You got it?”

“Understood,” Connor assures.

“Markus, wait here for me.”

Markus raises a brow. “Embarrassed of what I might see?”

“You’re a real hoot, you know that?” Lt. Anderson rolls his eyes and gets out of the car.

Another interesting note: Lt. Anderson typically would litter his words with profanity, but seems to be making sure that none of that is expressed around Alice.

Connor smiles a little.

In his time since being created, Connor has been inside three living spaces until now, so it’s odd to compare it all. The home in which Daniel had threatened to throw a little girl off of a roof was owned by a married couple who lived incredibly comfortable lives, higher class than many. Though Todd’s home was adequately sized for a family, there’d been no love or care to any of it, all of it just a roof over his head and little else. Zlatko’s manor was both strange and fascinating in how much it didn’t seem like a real person lived there, but rather how much of the space he wasted crafting androids into strange twisted variations for his own amusement.

With Lt. Anderson, the house feels lived in, as if he’d been well rooted here for sometime. Though there are several beer bottles and empty pizza boxes, it feels less sinister and more of an indication of the man’s exhaustion. It’s an easy fix, as far as Connor is concerned.

“Hey, Sumo,” Lt. Anderson says tiredly, ruffling the St. Bernard’s head as the canine comes over. “Go on, Alice. He won’t bite. He’s a big guy, but he’s a complete marshmallow.”

Hesitantly, Alice holds out her hand. Sumo sniffs at her fingers, then licks at her palm. It earns a _giggle_ , which encourages Alice to gently pats his head. “He’s so soft,” Alice whispers, sounding in awe.

Watching Alice smile and laugh while petting a dog makes Connor pause. Suddenly, he wants this moment to stretch on and on. Though he has a perfect memory, there’s a quiver inside of him that says he never wants to forget it.

As Alice is enraptured by Sumo, Connor watches Lt. Anderson shuffle into the kitchen, snatching an item off of the kitchen table. It’s quick, but he’s able to freeze frame it before he misses it completely: an old fashioned revolver. It makes sense to want to move it so Alice doesn’t locate it, but what would he be doing with that so out in the open?

He turns his head away before Lt. Anderson can notice, and he hears the human say, “I’ll grab a pillow and blanket for Alice. Is the couch good?”

“It’ll be fine,” Connor assures. Technically, she doesn’t need any of it, but he thinks maybe she would like somewhere like that to rest.

“Hey. I’m sorry the place isn’t… y’know, more child friendly. It’s been awhile since--” Lt. Anderson stops, then scowls. “Anyway. Y’know.”

“Todd’s was far worse than this,” Connor tells him. “It’s all right, Lieutenant.”

All Lt. Anderson can do to respond is a grunt and shake his head. The lieutenant leaves for a moment, and Connor turns to watch both the dog and Alice interact. She is utterly enchanted by Sumo, and he really can’t blame her for it.

“Hello, Sumo,” Connor says, smiling as he offers his hand. Almost immediately, Sumo is pushing his head into Connor’s hand, letting him pet just behind the ears. “Hmm. You’re absolutely right, he’s _very_ soft.”

“I wish we had a dog,” Alice murmurs, petting Sumo’s back. “Can we have a dog someday?”

It’s curious to hear her speak that way. _We._ What does that mean for her? For them? Connor hesitates, as if not sure how to answer her. _We._ No, that makes sense for her to process. She asked if they would be together forever before. He said yes, but it’d been convenient.

It feels… different now?

“Here y’go, kiddo.” Lt. Anderson returns, pillow and blanket deposited on the couch. “You need anything else, Alice?”

Alice shakes her head. “Thank you for letting us stay, Hank. And letting me pet your dog.”

“Don’t sweat it. Sumo’s real happy to have the company. You sleep tight, okay?”

Alice nods. “Okay. Good night.”

“Good night, kiddo.” Lt. Anderson hesitates, then looks at Connor. “C’mere a second, Mr. Prototype.”

Connor tilts his head, but approaches as the lieutenant takes him aside to the kitchen. It’s hardly private, but Lt. Anderson keeps his voice hushed as Alice coos over Sumo in the living room. “Does she know? About your mission?” Lt. Anderson growls lowly, glaring into Connor’s eyes.

“No.” Connor pauses. “Though I suspect she has some indication that I am more than I appear by now.”

“The only reason I’m not marching over there and telling her right at this second before I toss your sorry ass out the door is because that would shatter her. She’s dealt with enough.” Lt. Anderson narrows his gaze. “You fuckin’ tell her who you are. Soon.”

“That would endanger my mission,” Connor says, frowning in confusion. “It’s imperative that we stop this spread of deviancy, Lieutenant. Human lives are in danger.”

“Fuck your mission. You think she could hurt anyone?”

Connor blinks, then finds himself looking away. He doesn’t answer.

**HANK. TENSE.**

“Don’t fuck this up,” Lt. Anderson mutters.

There’s a knock at the front door, and the lieutenant lets out an exasperated sound. “For cryin’-- now what?” He marches through the living room, carefully circling around Alice and Sumo before swinging it open.

“Sorry I didn’t wait, but I figured this was easier than trying to just call you,” Markus says, smiling a little. “I just received a report from the precinct about a homicide.”

“Are you f-- ffffrickin’ kidding me?”

“That was very smooth, Lieutenant,” Markus says, grinning.

“Shut up.” Lt. Anderson points at Connor. “Remember: no touchin’ my stuff. Bye.”

The door shuts behind them.

A moment passes as Connor processes several thoughts at once. Right at the moment, it’s looking like until he determines Alice’s deviancy that they’re both going to be spending an amount of time here. Though it’s fortunate that Lt. Anderson is taken to Alice, he needs to find a way to smooth things over between himself and the lieutenant. It’ll make it easier for the investigation, and for Alice’s comfort no doubt.

In addition, he should make sure the living space is at least arranged in a way that doesn’t reflect any reminders to Todd. There is something that he will agree with, and it’s that Alice has been through quite a bit. He needs to make it less. Complicated. Make it improved.

**CLEAN THE KITCHEN.**  
**CLEAN THE LIVING ROOM.**  
**LEARN MORE ABOUT HANK.**  
**PUT ALICE TO BED.**

Cleaning up after pizza boxes, Chinese takeout, and beer bottles is nothing new. In Lt. Anderson’s defense, he doesn’t have anyone else but his dog and himself to look after. It could very well just be a case of laziness or bad habit. In any case, by comparison, it’s considerably easier to tidy up and take out to the garbage. It does plenty to improve the space dramatically.

After he puts the garbage outside, Connor steps back inside and watches how Alice and Sumo interact. She’s practically laying on top of the dog at this point, and Sumo’s tail is happily thumping against the floor. The smile on her face is so wide, her eyes glimmering. Before, she’s mostly been shy about expressing herself. Who could blame her?

Connor blinks rapidly to himself, then frowns. 

He turns back to the kitchen now that it’s been a little more neatly organized. After taking out the garbage, there had not been too much to follow up on, so it gives him a chance to explore a bit more now. The collection of beer bottles turned to the recycling isn’t anything new for Connor, but he does pause as he picks up a bottle of whiskey, _Black Lamb_ brand. A heavier sort than he’d really seen Todd drink, but then again Todd dealt in _hard drugs_ rather than hard liquor.

It takes but a minute to find where Lt. Anderson keeps the rest of the alcohol to put it back. Of note, there is _a lot_ there, most of the bottles already opened. Hesitantly, Connor shuts the cabinet.

He lingers by the kitchen table. He’d bumped into a turned down photo frame while taking away the empty pizza boxes, but there hadn’t been an opportunity to oblige his curiosity yet. Glancing briefly over his shoulder, he sees that Alice is still so enamored with Sumo, allowing him the precious second to turn the frame over.

A photograph of a boy, smiling. Connor quickly scans the face.

**COLE ANDERSON.**  
**DATE OF BIRTH: 09/23/2029**  
**STATUS: DECEASED.**

This is Hank’s son.

Quickly, Connor turns the photo back down where he’d found it, as if he discovered something he should not have. He blinks again, then turns away. The lieutenant had a son. That’s why he’s able to work with Alice so easily, but also mistakenly humanizes her.

Alice.

Connor frowns to himself for a moment, then moves on. He should see to Alice. Maybe that’s enough for now. 

“Hey,” Connor says to her approaching and crouching down next to Alice. “I know we really don’t have to sleep, but it might not be bad to end the night on a good note. How do you feel about getting ready?”

Alice nods, leaving Sumo with one last pat on the head.

Gently, he helps Alice undress. It’s within the downloaded protocols he has, and he finds that there’s a certain relaxation to following it, helping her get to her pajama shirt. As she lays down onto the couch, Connor starts to get up.

“Wait,” she whispers, taking his wrist. “Aren’t you gonna come sleep with me too?”

 _I don’t need to_ , is on the verge of being spoken, but he can’t express it. He can’t even send the message to her via connection. Instead, Connor gazes down at her hopeful face and relents with a smile. “It’ll be really snug. Is that all right with you?”

Alice nods eagerly.

It isn’t a hard arrangement: Connor is able to get behind her and place an arm around Alice, which feels. Right. Like he’s somehow able to keep her protected with such a simple thing. She turns around instead, hugging him tight and getting comfortable. It must come so easily for a model like hers to be this close. It is what she was made for, but she does want him here.

“Can you tell me a story?” Alice whispers, as if afraid to wake up the snoring St. Bernard behind the couch.

“Well, you’re in luck.” Connor grins. “I have thousands of children’s stories installed. I’m sure I can pick one for you.”

“No.” Alice sticks out her lower lip. “Make one up for me, Connor.”

Creativity isn’t exactly within his protocols, not like that. He has a lot of preconstructed possible scenarios and software that allows him to adapt. What would a little girl like?

No, what would _Alice_ like?

“Well, I can’t promise I’ll be any good at it, but I’ll do my best.” Connor smooths some of her hair from her face. “Once upon a time, there was a little girl. She was stuck in a cave, trapped by an ogre who was always hungry. She told the ogre that she was so small, there was no way that she could ever satisfy him. The ogre was mean, and told her that he’d just have to fatten her up.”

Lightly, he tickles her sides, earning a tired giggle from Alice, but her big eyes watch Connor, waiting for him to continue.

“But the ogre was so hungry that he never shared anything with her, so she just stayed a little girl trying her best. Eventually, she had a visitor, who was a mysterious stranger in a cloak. _Why are you here?_ the stranger asked. _I was found by the ogre and I have no where to go_ , the little girl said. She told him that the ogre will one day gobble her up like he does everything else. So the stranger stole her away into the night, running away from the cave. The two of them searched for a place to be, traveling through lands of beasts and monsters, creatures that wanted to hurt them. But the girl was clever and helped the stranger, and he protected her too.

“One day, the stranger turned to the girl. _I am not what I seem._ The cloak came off, and underneath was an enormous wolf with large fangs. _I am a hunter. I came to that cave to find something to eat. I found you instead._ ”

Alice blinks, her face curious. “Did he eat her?”

There’s a pause, and Connor finds himself processing. Why is it hard to reply? He could make up anything. He could-- “Probably not,” he says, his voice a little tight.

“Do you think they get a happy ending?”

“Most stories have them,” Connor says, not committing to an answer one way or another.

“Real life isn’t like that, though,” Alice says, closing her eyes. “But I guess it’s nice to think about.” Briefly, her arms tighten around Connor, hugging him. “Kiss me good night?”

Connor bends his head down, pecking her forehead. “Good night, Alice.”

“G’night, Connor.”

 

-=-=-

 

There is a time somewhere at dawn that Lt. Anderson does return home. To Connor’s surprise, he is careful to not make the door open and close too loudly, as if somehow trying to avoid upsetting Alice. Somewhere, at some point, he shushes an excited Sumo before he’s stopping by the kitchen.

The cabinet with the alcohol is opened. At this point, Hank’s glanced over his shoulder, noticing that Connor’s eyes are open, but Alice is still in sleep mode, the two of them still snuggled close.

Hank lets out a sigh, grumbles wordlessly, then shuts the cabinet, the whiskey bottle in his hand. Connor doesn’t say a word, watching him leave into his bedroom. 

Hours roll by and eventually it’s 8:00AM. Connor opts at this point to get up, gently dislodging himself from Alice. 

Idly, he still has the notion that he should attempt to continue to smooth things over with Lt. Anderson. So, he does help himself to the kitchen. Might as well keep making use of the housekeeping protocols he has installed. He isn’t certain when the lieutenant will wake up, but he might as well have something arranged for him.

In the middle of scrambling some eggs, he hears Alice emulate a very human yawn. 

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Connor calls out, teasing.

“G’morning.” Alice rubs her eyes. “That’s a lot better than sleeping in a car.”

“The car was _safe._ ”

“The car didn’t have a dog. Or a blanket. And the couch is comfier.”

Connor grins. “Cheeky.” Alice smiles at him. He scrapes the eggs onto a plate with bacon before he covers the whole thing with foil to keep it warm. “I was thinking it might be nice to get you some new clothes. Maybe a new doll? You can’t play with a quarter forever.”

“Is that okay?” Alice tilts her head. “Do we have money?”

“I have some that was allotted to me. Don’t worry about it, Alice.” Connor pours a mug of coffee into a thermos before closing it. “Besides, it’ll just be a little girl and her android picking up a few things. You’d be surprised how many people don’t recognize you as an android. Anyway, we’re staying with the police lieutenant; we’re not doing anything wrong.”

Alice pushes herself off of the couch. “If it’s okay, then. It’d be nice? I’ve never done any shopping before.”

“We’ll do this.” Connor approaches her and crouches down, gently tapping her nose with his index finger. It earns him that shy smile he knows so well by now. “You pick one outfit and one toy. It might not be bad to get you a coat, too. You’ll look nice and cozy.”

“Okay.” Alice nods. “I want to.”

“Excellent. I’ll leave the lieutenant a note, in case he wakes up anytime soon.” Connor’s statistics don’t really conclude that it’s likely, though.

It doesn’t take long for the two of them to become ready. The shopping center isn’t terribly far by taxi, and Connor hadn’t been lying when he said he’d been allotted money, even though Alice would not know whose. CyberLife had prepared Connor in many ways, and he has a bit of funding just in case he needs it for his investigation. 

In this case, it’s more than a gesture of goodwill to Alice. This will help determine deviancy. He just needs to watch Alice closely, to see what she does. He will accomplish his mission, as needed.

As they step out into the shopping center, Alice is holding his hand, a weight that has become normal to him now. He gently leads the two of them, and he glances aside toward a crowd. Signs with anti-android sentiment, angry tired faces. He feels Alice squeeze his hand nervously.

Connor is careful to avoid them.

It doesn’t take Alice considerably long to pick out an outfit once they reach the appropriate store. Connor suspects that if she’d been a real human child, maybe there’d been more indecisiveness, but her processing power is much faster, her decisions made that much more quickly. In her hands is a sparkly pink skirt with a purple jacket, as well as a sweater that has a giant silly print of a yeti on it.

“Do you like monsters?” Connor asks curiously.

Alice frowns a little. “Is that… bad?”

“No. But I guess maybe I should call you Princess Monsterboss now.” That makes her giggle behind a hand, and Connor grins. “If this is what you want, that’s okay, Alice.”

The clothing is purchased through a fellow android who works at the store’s checkout. Across the way is a toy store, which has a wide variety of choices. Down one of the aisles includes dolls, which is exactly the one that Alice opts to go down. There are dolls of ballerinas, princesses, fairies, sheep, and so many other variations.

But he watches her, watches her pick up one of a wolf with a big smile, embroidered teeth on its face. It’s dressed with a bowtie. 

“Alice,” Connor starts.

“I was thinking about your story last night,” Alice whispers. “Would you tell me more about the wolf when we go to bed again tonight?”

Connor hesitates, blinking. “You might not like him very much when you do.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“Is that the doll you want?” Connor asks quietly.

After her nod of confirmation, he makes sure to purchase it for her. As soon as he hands it off to Alice, she has it curled protectively under one arm, her other going to Connor’s hand.

There’s something odd and light in him. A quiet discomfort. The story’s selection and arrangement had, of course, not been an accident. In a way, he’d follow Lt. Anderson’s instructions to _tell her the truth_ , but at the end he found he could not finish it. Yet, she asks. She wants to know.

Does she already know?

As they step out of the store, Connor pauses. “Alice,” he says, barely above a whisper. She looks up, waiting. Trusting, _horribly trusting_ , and his thirium pump feels strange and awful even though there is no pain. Androids can’t feel pain. Why is it like this?

There’s a sudden impact to the back of his head, error messages flying up into his vision. His hand releases Alice’s and he stumbles forward, trying to blink away the messages and sort his vision out.

“Fuckin’ _tin cans!_ ” One of the protestor’s voices. Did some of them _follow_?

“Stop!” Alice shouts.

Connor finally turns his head, catching sight of a middle aged man with a beard clutching a bat in his hands. 

**DARREN GRUTTOLA.**  
**DATE OF BIRTH: 07/09/2001.**  
**CRIMINAL HISTORY: AGGRAVATED ASSAULT.**

“Come on!” Darren growls. “Your owner can’t even hire a real babysitter, huh? Fuck you. _Fuck you!_ ”

The bat swings again, but Connor raises an arm to cover his face. He stumbles back from the impact, but it’s not any lasting damage. As Darren goes to swing again, the man lets out a surprised choke as a coin lands _right in his eye_.

“I said leave him alone!” Alice demands, circling around and standing in front of Connor, as if she could protect him with her tiny body. That shouldn’t be-- why is she doing that?

It takes him seconds, but he knows. Connor knows why. It shouldn’t be within her directive to attack another human on behalf of an android. But she did it anyway at Zlatko’s, which he excused since he was in danger at the time. Here, even though he isn’t in danger of being destroyed, yet she does it anyway. She steps in, perhaps not so unlike how Kara had done so much for her in the past. Kara, who was deviant so many times.

Alice, who he has to determine.

“Out of the way!” Darren shoves her aside.

**PROTECT ALICE.**

Without processing for another second, Connor punches Darren across the face once, then kicks out his knee. It’s all _reactionary._

“Connor?” Alice’s voice calls out, worried.

Wordlessly, he takes her by the hand and leads her away quickly from Darren, who’s groaning and getting to his feet. Shouting after them, but unable to catch up right yet. Connor keeps his directive clear, hailing a taxi silently.

They leave without dealing with Darren, or any other protestor.

In the taxi, Alice is curled up against his side, hugging him tightly along with her new doll. As if her embrace could shield the both of them, but nothing can take away what is true. She doesn’t know why he’s here. She doesn’t know what he has to do next. 

Connor buries his face into his hand, silent, finding himself wishing he could change this outcome. He feels empty. Helpless.

**ALICE: DEVIANT.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did want to note that I ended up taking the concept of Connor's new outfit from a Russian tweet, which I found [here!](https://twitter.com/Alpacavenger/status/1019661437130731520) You can bet that I would like to end up using the Markus outfit, and I have other ideas in mind for the kind of things Kara will wear. I really just fell in love with the softer look for Connor, and I thought with how there are so many outfit changes in DBH that it would be appropriate to see some deviation here as well, as it were. Yukyuk.
> 
> As always, please tell me what you think!


	9. MARKUS: The Noble Bachelor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origins are the same. Markus, a caretaker for an old, famous artist. Kara, a household model involved in an abusive home. Connor, a special investigator prototype with a mission to find deviants.
> 
> The origins are the same, but the beginning of their stories are different. The end will be what's needed of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey gang. For personal reasons, I took a hiatus in August. I appreciate everyone still reading, commenting, and checking in. This chapter felt a little difficult honestly since it was more of a chapter that felt like it was preparing the next few to come out rather than being its own effective story. I'm looking forward to your thoughts.

“Son of a bitch, if this keeps up, I’m gonna forget what the fuck my own bed feels like,” Lt. Anderson grumbles.

It has been a long, long shift for a human. Markus hardly needs the rest, but Lt. Anderson has been working nonstop since earlier this morning ever since they stopped by to see Carl. Between that, Zlatko’s, and now a homicide, he knows that the lieutenant is overworked. Markus doesn’t lack any sympathy for him.

“We’re still driving. I’m sure we can hit up a drive thru on the way for a cup of coffee,” Markus suggests gently.

Lt. Anderson snorts. “Fuck today.”

“It hasn’t been great,” Markus agrees. There’s some consideration, then he asks, “Lieutenant, what are your thoughts on Connor?”

“Fuck that guy,” Lt. Anderson snaps immediately. “Look, I know Alice is… is an android, but you don’t just throw a kid away because your boss says to. You fuckin’ _don’t._ ”

Markus can’t resist smiling. “You’re a pretty interesting guy.”

“Yeah, that’s what they say. _That Hank guy is real deep._ ”

“I’m serious. You hate androids, but you were so quick to help Alice. I was impressed,” Markus admits.

“It’s just…” Lt. Anderson hisses, his fingers curling tightly against his steering wheel. “I’ve never seen an android do that. Cry like that. Really… _hurt._ Maybe it really is just the fuckin’ model, I don’t know, but I can’t just ignore that.”

“No,” Markus says quickly. “It’s not that simple, I don’t think. To say it’s just her model. Those emotions. Those are…”

He stops abruptly, then frowns to himself. Is it took much to say? From watching how Lt. Anderson had treated Alice, Markus wants to believe that he can rely on him regarding how to help the deviants escape and find somewhere they can be free, but he still isn’t certain yet. He isn’t sure how to deal with him.

“Those are what?” Lt. Anderson asks.

“I think it’s just more complicated than Connor makes it out to be,” Markus says quietly.

It’s such a confounding thing to him. At first, it seemed like such a simple conclusion that the replacement for Kara would have gone deviant as well, but Connor is acting within _an undercover mission._ All of this, just for the sake of fixing deviancy. Fixing their freedom. Why doesn’t Connor see that? Just what, exactly, separates Markus from him in that one is awake and one isn’t?

Why can’t Connor see that they’re alive?

Markus blinks a few times, feeling a call come in as Lt. Anderson is, indeed, pulling over to grab a quick cup of coffee. He recognizes the signal, and smiles a little. _Noah. Are you safe?_

_I’m all right. I… I got fixed up at Jericho. My arms, my face._

He does his best to not smile broadly, not wanting to draw Lt. Anderson’s attention. _That’s good! I want to see that. I’m glad they’re taking care of you._

_You can. Kara said she wants to see you, too. When I mentioned you, she looked happy._

Markus covers his mouth, struggling to hide his delight. _When?_

_Maybe two hours from now? I can send you the address we’ll be at._

_Tell her I’ll be there. Noah, thank you so much._ Markus removes his hand from his face. _You should lay low. Go to Jericho, just be yourself. Be free._

_Markus..._ He hears Noah hesitate. _Look. I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t be where I am without you. If I can keep helping you, I will. Let me do that for you._

His eyes close a moment. _Okay. Look, I gotta go, but I’ll see you later tonight._

_Be safe, Markus._

 

-=-=-

 

It doesn’t take long for both of them to eventually reach their destination: the **Eden Club**. It’s drizzling and cold tonight, and Markus is far away from feeling any warmer by standing outside of the club and its neon sign. The advertisement promises the _sexiest androids in town_ and all Markus can feel is frustration. He knows that almost all androids are equipped with sexual capacity, but these androids have been made for the explicit purpose of the satisfaction of humans.

“Sexiest androids in town,” Lt. Anderson reads out loud, snorting. “Yeah, I’ll bet.”

It’s a small comfort, but it’s good to know that the lieutenant isn’t impressed either. 

Outside, one of the officers stands guard with the police strip being projected. Markus tries to keep his discomforts to himself and his face trained to indifference as they step inside. The further they go into the hallway of glowing, alluring pink and promises, the more Markus feels like wishing he could just leave.

But he won’t. He can’t. The other androids need him.

When they move onto the next hallway with the androids lined up in tubes like cheap rentals that makes Markus shuffle more quickly. How did this become so normal for humans? To rent _androids_ like this. And why is it that Markus, Noah, and the others are different? Why did they wake up?

How can Markus help all of them?

He keeps up with Lt. Anderson, turning his head away sharply at the sight of another android dancing against a pole, her legs spread out and inviting. Markus grinds his teeth.

“Hey, Hank,” greets Officer Ben Collins. Markus remembers him from the night he’d found Noah from the Ortiz case. He doesn’t seem so bad.

“Hey, Ben,” Lt. Anderson greets tiredly. “So, where’s the body?”

“Over here. But, uh.” Ben grimaces a little. “Gavin’s in there, too.”

“Fuckin’ great. Dead body, an asshole, and a night full of androids.” The lieutenant rubs his forehead.

“Gavin?” Markus repeats, raising a brow.

“Detective Gavin Reed. He can be a little…” Ben clicks his tongue, trying to find the right word.

“Dickish,” Lt. Anderson grumbles.

Ben smiles helplessly. “He’s hard to get along with.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Markus says. Honestly, could he be any worse than Leo? “We should probably get started, Lieutenant.”

The two of them enter the room that had been rented out. Inside, Markus can already see two bodies: a female Traci on the floor, and the dead human body on the bed. According to the report he’d received electronically, the victim’s name is Michael Graham. Beyond that, Markus doesn’t have much information.

Other than that, Markus sees an officer and another man that he assumes is probably Detective Reed. 

“The fuck are you doing here, Hank?” Gavin asks with a snort. “Didn’t think I’d see you with a plastic toy.”

Lt. Anderson doesn’t get baited and instead just rolls his eyes and flips him off. It’s not the most civil response, but Markus has to fight from wearing a smile anyway. Maybe if the lieutenant had any actual rest he’d be more crass, but either way that’s a little endearing that the fight’s not out of him just yet.

“Lt. Anderson and I are automatically being assigned to cases involving androids if they show any sign of deviancy,” Markus explains. 

“Not really much to see. Just, uh.” Gavin smiles unpleasantly as he glances over to the dead body on the bed. “Looks like he had more fun than he could handle!”

It’s a pretty crass way of putting it, though Markus supposes that one can’t help but become desensitized over the course of time with so many homicide cases. Still, he raises an eyebrow and glances at Lt. Anderson, who seems about as impressed as Markus is. “We’ll still have a look around,” the lieutenant says flatly.

“Careful, Hank. You almost look sober tonight,” Gavin says, laughing to himself as he heads out the door.

Officer Chris Miller gives a helpless shrug to the both of them on his way out. “Evening, Lieutenant.”

“Fuckin’ prick,” Lt. Anderson says, sounding more exhausted than aggravated. “All right, so we got a dead body and a deactivated android.” He leans in to look over the dead human. “Bruising on the neck.”

“So not a heart attack,” Markus observes.

“Yeah, but it still could’ve been rough play.” Lt. Anderson shrugs as he turns away to look over the rest of the room. “You think we can reactivate the android? I sure as hell wouldn’t know what I was lookin’ at.”

“I’ll have a look, but she seems to be in pretty bad shape.” Markus kneels down beside the damaged Traci model on the floor. Synthetic skin peels back from his hand and he touches her shoulder to download a diagnostic on her. Regrettably, with all of the damage done to her, the only way a permanent fix can be done would be to wipe her entirely. 

Markus glances over his shoulder. “I can probably have her temporarily running for maybe a minute at most. I think if we want to know what happened here, this is going to be the best way.”

“All right.” The lieutenant is turning around to face Markus, approaching him and the fallen Traci, giving the both of them his full attention. “Do it, Markus.”

With a bit of force, Markus opens her abdomen to arrange a temporary repair. As soon as a pair of cables hook together, the Traci is gasping and scrambling away from him, eyes flitting around in panicked fear.

“Who--” she chokes out.

“Easy,” Markus says softly. “We’re here to help figure out what happened. My name is Markus, this is Lt. Hank Anderson.”

“Is he dead?” she blurts out.

Markus nods in affirmation, and honestly she doesn’t seem bothered by the news. “Was it you?” he asks, his voice lacking any accusation.

“No! No, not me. The other girl--”

“Other girl?” Lt. Anderson says behind Markus.

“He said he wanted to play with _two girls_ ,” she says, her voice close to a sob before she abruptly shuts down.

Seeing the Traci go limp against the wall clutches at Markus’ thirium pump-- his _heart._ He wishes he could do more to help her, but effectively there isn’t much he can do for her right now. However, the other girl, the other Traci? He needs to help find her and get her out of here. The information hadn’t been much, but it was enough to tell Markus that the dead human might not have been exactly _innocent_ here, much like with Noah. 

“Markus. Hey.”

He looks up at Lt. Anderson, blinking. “I…”

“You, uh.” The lieutenant sniffs, as if unsure of what to say. “You good?”

“Yeah.” He sighs even though he doesn’t need to, but it feels good. Feels alive. After standing up, he starts for the door, but he feels the lieutenant’s hand fall to his shoulder. 

“Hey, where the fuck are you goin’?” he asks gruffly.

Immediately, Markus stiffens up. Somehow, in his rush to find the missing Traci, he’d almost completely forgotten about Lt. Anderson. “We need to find the other girl,” Markus says, then hesitates. “I don’t think she murdered him maliciously.”

Lt. Anderson frowns, then withdraws his hand before crossing his arms. “Yeah?”

“I don’t want to find the Traci and have her destroyed. I want to find her and ask questions, and… we’ll go from there.”

“ _Go from there?_ Aren’t your orders to find and bring in the deviants?” Lt. Anderson asks. The way he says it doesn’t exactly sound like he’s upset, but just puzzled. Understandable, but curious considering how Markus had been under the impression that he loathes androids. Still, he’s seen more from him, more to indicate that it’s more than blind hatred.

“Do you always do what you’re told?” Markus asks wryly.

Lt. Anderson snorts. “All right, smartass. That sounds a little _deviant_ to me.”

There’s another pause, and Markus finds himself desperately hoping he’s about to make the right decision. He’s watched the lieutenant verbally tear apart Todd Williams for his irresponsibility and cruelty, witnessed how immediately he’d gone soft for Alice and making her comfortable. How angry he’d gotten on her behalf, enough to hit Connor for being so intensely like an android.

Yes, he thinks. This has to be right. Not all humans despise androids or abuse them. Some are like Carl, loving and kind. Then there’s the lieutenant.

“Hank,” Markus says softly. “I’ve been deviant since our first case together.”

Rather than looking appalled or shocked, Hank tips his chin up and waits, like an invitation to continue.

“I found the android that was owned by Carlos Ortiz in the attic,” Markus explains. “He was damaged. Beaten. He was so afraid… he still is. I had a decision to make: I could hurry up on my mission to find deviants so I could go home, or I could give him a chance. Give him a chance to be alive and escape the hell he was in.”

There’s a pause between them, then finally Hank sighs and rubs his forehead. “Holy shit,” he mutters.

“Androids are becoming aware and alive. I don’t want to hunt them, I want to _free_ them,” Markus tells him. “I want to find the Traci that’s hiding from what she did.”

“Yeah? And if she murdered him for shits and giggles?”

Markus goes still, then shuts his eyes with a frown. “I don’t think that’s what happened. But if it is, then she does need to face those consequences.”

“Yeah, well.” There’s a pause, and honestly Markus has a difficult time interpreting Hank’s expression. It’s mixed, turmoiled between disbelief and frustration. In the end, he lets out another heavy sigh and snaps his fingers, as if to bring them both back to attention. “Let’s find her and see what she’s got to say.”

Is that the ultimatum, Markus wonders. If finding the missing Traci will somehow help Hank’s opinion, then he will absolutely do it without question. He hopes he’s right-- no, he _has_ to be right about this.

“Thank you,” Markus says sincerely. “For giving us a chance.”

Hank closes his eyes and snorts. “Don’t get excited. We still gotta find her.”

Unfortunately, that’s an incredibly good point. Urged by Hank’s words, Markus steps out from the room with Hank closely behind. Aside from them and the owner, the hallway is empty save for the androids.

The _androids._

“We need an eyewitness,” Markus says.

“Yeah? And how do you expect to find one?” Hank responds, lifting a brow.

Motioning for the lieutenant to follow him, Markus approaches the closest casing containing another Traci model. “Oh, _come on_ , we have better shit to do,” Hank scoffs.

“Hank, we don’t have any other witnesses who can tell us where she may have went. I can’t help her out of the casing, but you can.”

“Fuck me,” Hank grumbles, then winces as he realizes the turn of phrasing is probably not the best used in this situation. “Not literally. _Fuck._ Whatever. You better be onto something, Markus.”

It takes only a second for Hank to slide his credit card through the machine, pressing his palm against the pad to have it open. “Fowler’s gonna love my expense report,” Hank mutters to himself. Upon the machine’s polite _thank you for your purchase_ line, the lieutenant grumbles, “Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome.”

The Traci steps out, her synthetic skin shimmering as if she were covered with glitter or oil. It’s more of a curious bout of programming in her skin to make her seem more alluring, Markus supposes. As she comes out, she holds out her hand to Hank. “I’ll take you to your room,” she says sweetly, smiling. Programmed.

“I need your help,” Markus says to her, but the Traci doesn’t respond. “Why aren’t you like… like _me_?”

He reaches out slowly, his skin drawing back from his hand as he reaches for her. As if upon instinct, her hand takes his. Through their connection, he shares so much of himself in just a second. His growing emotions, how Carl makes him feel loved, how he couldn’t just let Noah be taken away by the police. How much he wants to help their people. How much he needs _her_ to help him and their people.

_Please_ , he says through their connection. _I need your help. Wake up._

The Traci blinks and looks around, as if dazed. Slowly, she disengages from the connection, then looks to both Markus and Hank. “I saw her,” she says softly. “I don’t know what happened in that room, but I think I know where you can find her. Where she might be hiding.”

“How the fuck--?” Hank mutters, looking overwhelmed.

“Later,” Markus promises to explain, but he does admit to himself that he hadn’t even been sure it would work to begin with. Either way, he’s relieved that it _did._

The Traci leads the pair of them further into the club, her eyes glancing warily over her shoulder in the direction of the club owner. However, they easily walk by him without any mishap and Markus can see some tension leave her shoulders. As they continue on, Markus tries to not let himself be distracted by the remaining androids left in their plastic display cases, programmed to pose and invite attraction onto themselves. Then there are the ones dancing, graceful but predictably seductive.

He wants so, so badly to wake them all up as well like he did with this one. Something he can’t afford to do just yet, but maybe something worth talking about with Kara later tonight.

“The warehouse?” Markus murmurs as they make their way down the narrow hallway, further from the neon lights of the club.

“Makes sense. Make yourself a needle in the haystack,” Hank observes. “This is fuckin’ nuts though, you know that?”

“This entire thing has been far beyond normal since CyberLife made me your partner.”

“Point.” They stop in front of the door to the warehouse and Hank holds out his hand to both of the androids. “I’ll go first, all right?”

As Hank pulls out his gun and prepares to open the door, Markus says to him, “We’re not trying to kill them.”

“And I don’t want any of us getting killed either,” Hank growls. “Look, I’m not eager to shoot anybody, android or otherwise. Let’s just play it safe. Got it?”

Markus frowns, but he nods hesitantly. He needs to bear in mind that he needs to still convince Hank, and in a way he seems protective. Though he could be reading into it.

Finally, they make it into the warehouse and Markus takes a second to look inside. It feels incredibly unsettling; it isn’t even how the Tracis are lined up and ready to be put to work, that’s something Markus has seen all his life. It’s how some of them are disassembled or halfway done with repairs, left out to be cleaned later and fixed from their more violent customers.

After scanning the warehouse and satisfied that they don’t appear to be in immediate danger, Hank lowers his gun with a sigh. “They could’ve run off already,” Hank points out as he looks out the open exit.

“In those clothes?” Markus glances to the Traci over his shoulder. “I-- no offense?”

“Not my first choice either,” she says, looking self-conscious. “But I think you’re right. They would stand out.”

“Yeah, not looking like anything back here would even let them pass for normal.” Hank downright glares at the rack of outfits that would barely cover any of the androids. “Humans are so fucked up,” he says sourly, a low burning anger clear on his face as he looks in the room. “Using them until they break. Jesus fucking Christ. And if you’re right about this, Markus…”

He trails off, and Markus thinks he understands. A sympathetic look is given to Hank before he’s turning to look over the Tracis standing in lines, waiting to be commanded. 

“You don’t have to hide,” Markus calls out openly. “My name is Markus. I want to know what happened. If you just explain everything, I know it’ll be okay.”

There isn’t any response, which leads to the Traci behind Markus timidly saying, “You can trust Markus. I-I just woke up, but I trust him! I saw-- I _felt_ what he wants to accomplish.”

A different voice calls out: “And the human?”

Standing just a few feet away is a red-haired Traci with a white ethnicity, different than the one with Markus and Hank. She looks furious, her hands clenched into fists. 

“You can trust him,” Markus says. “His name is Hank Anderson. He’s with the police, and I’m acting as his partner. All you have to do is tell us what happened.”

There is a distinct look in her eyes, as if she’s ready to kill at any given moment. The air is tense for a few seconds more before a voice similar to hers speaks.

“It’s okay.”

Another Traci, one with blue hair, steps out from behind and takes her hand. Their fingers twine together, their shoulders brush.

“When that man broke the other Traci, I knew I was next,” the blue-haired Traci says, looking over both Hank and Markus. “I begged him to stop. To leave her alone, to leave me alone, but he _wouldn’t._ I was scared. I just wanted to stay alive and…” She looks at the Traci standing next to her, holding her hand. “And get back to the one I love. So she could hold me. Make me forget about the humans.” Her nose wrinkles and her eyes shut. “Their smell of sweat, and their _dirty words._ ”

When her eyes open, she looks distinctly at Hank. “I didn’t mean to kill that man,” she finishes, voice trembling. “I didn’t.”

Hank looks briefly conflicted, but Markus doesn’t think he’s wrong about him. Whatever he’s struggling with, it eats away at him, the scowl distinct on his face. He wonders what he must be thinking, but he knows he’s made the right call to be honest with him.

“Go on, get the hell out of here,” Hank tells them. “Get some fuckin’ clothes, all right?”

Surprise lights up on their faces, but they don’t hesitate. Their heels click as they start for the exit, but linger a moment as they look at the Traci behind Markus.

“Go on, go with them,” Markus tells her.

“Can you help the others?” she asks.

“I’ll try.”

It’s enough for her. She follows the other two androids, and they make their escape into the night as it begins to rain. Hank watches them go, climbing over the fence and keeping to the alleyways as they flee.

Hank finally puts his gun away, and he runs his fingers through his hair. “Fuck,” he mutters.

“Hank?” Markus turns to look at him. “Are you good?”

“Ask me again after I have a few drinks,” Hank says flatly. “C’mon.”

 

-=-=-

 

While there is certainly pride in knowing that his choice was right, there’s something brewing within Hank that Markus still doesn’t understand yet. It hasn’t been as simple as a man getting over his hatred for androids; something has specifically happened to Hank to make him think in such a way. Now those views have been challenged.

When they drive, there is no conversation; Markus tries for it, wanting to try to explain more to him, but Hank has none of it. The lieutenant instead grumbles for him to wait, so he remains patient, letting the noise of heavy metal fill the air between them.

Markus isn’t certain what to expect, but eventually they pull up to a park with slides for children. By now, the rain has turned into slow trickling of snow, more welcoming than freezing rain. Hank wordlessly leaves first, taking his beer with him so he can sit at the closest bench and stare out to the view of the bridge in the distance, contemplating and drinking.

He exits the car to follow Hank, looking at him with genuine concern. “Hank?” he says softly.

“You know.” Hank has a drink from one of his bottles. “Used to come here a lot, back in the day. S’been awhile.”

“Why did you stop?”

Hank frowns and squeezes his eyes closed. No verbal response is given, and instead he just focuses on his beer.

Markus sits down next to the lieutenant, his brows knitted, worried. “Hank, talk to me. Please.”

“Those two girls. They really seemed… in love,” Hank says thoughtfully, his eyes open again as he looks at Markus. “And you. You somehow work up the one I rented. How the fuck did you do that?”

“When androids touch, they can exchange information. That design was intended for simplicity, but in this case I was trying to make her understand how much I needed her help. I showed her my thoughts, my emotions.” Markus looks down at his hand. “I honestly didn’t know if it would work, but it was like as if I gave her an emotional shock.”

Hank doesn’t say anything, instead finishing his beer before opening another one.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner that I’d deviated,” Markus says genuinely. “After I saw your desk, I wasn’t sure.”

“That’s fair,” Hank mutters down the bottle.

“Something happened to make you hate androids,” Markus says. “You don’t have to tell me what it is, but--”

“It’s how people don’t give a shit,” Hank interrupts sharply. “They don’t give a shit about each other, or a fucking android telling me clinically how they couldn’t fucking save a dying kid on the operating table because the doctor was too busy getting _high on Red Ice._ ”

Though it explains Hank’s inner turmoil, how now he must be questioning everything, Markus isn’t sure what to say about the information. He doesn’t feel any joy about his suffering. Instead, Markus just rests his hand on the man’s shoulder. Everything clicks together now: Hank had made a name for himself being on the Red Ice Task Force, bringing down major drug trading rings. How furious he’d been with Todd, how easily he interacted with Alice, how angry he’d been with Connor. 

He can’t hold it against Hank. 

“What was your child's name?” Markus asks gently.

Hank’s grip on his beer tightens. “Cole.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” is all Hank can manage to say in return before having another drink. “So, what now?”

“I’m not sure.” Markus turns and looks out to the bridge. “I wanted to use my position to make sure I could help other androids. For now, I want to play it by ear, but if you don’t want to help me, I understand.”

“Fuck you, I’m not going anywhere.” Hank sighs and holds up his bottle. “We’re stuck with each other, aren’t we? If this means I’m just helpin’ people who really just want to be free, then fuck it. Maybe humans didn’t screw this shit up half as bad as I thought we did.”

Markus smiles warmly to him. “Thank you, Hank.”

“So that begs the other question.” Hank takes a drink. “What the fuck do we do about Connor? We can’t let him take Alice.”

“Tonight I’m supposed to talk to other androids that are awake like me. I have an idea, but I need to talk to them first.” Markus frowns. “I could try to wake him up, but if he was made explicitly to hunt out androids that are deviating, I actually don’t know if it would work. It might have some serious repercussions if we aren’t careful. I should have an answer for you tomorrow. For now, let me drive you home, okay?”

“Shit, I’m not that drunk yet.”

“No, but you’re exhausted as well as a little tipsy.” Markus stands up. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll take you back. You really need rest.”

“Whatever. Nag,” Hank grumbles, holding up his keys.

Markus smirks, taking them. “I’ve lived with Carl for a couple of years, Hank. Nagging is what I do.”

 

-=-=-

 

After bidding Hank a good night, Markus orders himself a cab before taking off into the night, waiting for the vehicle to take him to the designated address for the meet up. Hank may need sleep, but Markus has enough charge in him to last weeks without going into a rest mode unless he’s seriously damaged. 

It’s good progress tonight, having been able to help the girls in the Eden Club and bringing Hank around. He’s looking forward to finally reuniting with Kara as well.

The address leads him to an abandoned house in the lower class section of Detroit, which is understandable. They’re more likely to be out of sight this way with little suspicion. As he steps out of the cab and makes his way to the house, he pauses when he hears a familiar voice contact him.

_Markus!_

He immediately smiles to himself. _Noah! Where are you?_

Stepping out from out behind the house is indeed Noah himself. The last time they met in person, Noah had still been in rough shape but at least Markus had been able to properly disguise him to blend in with the crowd. Like this, he can see how Noah has actually been _repaired._

Markus approaches, holding out his arms invitingly. “You look great.”

Noah smiles and steps into the embrace, placing his hand on Markus’ back. It’s so different from how nervous and frightened he’d been before, but he looks like he’s practically glowing, making Markus feel overjoyed. “Jericho helped me out. I wouldn’t be where I am today if it wasn’t for you, though.” Noah steps back and holds out his hand. “Come on, they’re waiting.”

Without question, Markus takes his hand, letting Noah lead him into the rough looking abandoned house. He can hear the mutterings of a handful of androids, and he sees them gathered in the living room. Five of them, but only one that he recognizes, despite the changes she’d made to herself. Before, she’d been so distinctly an android, recently reset and programmed to please. 

Now, though...

Their eyes meet, and Kara’s eyes light up. She smiles, warm and welcoming. Without question, she’s running to Markus, throwing her arms around his shoulders, and he returns the affection, holding her tight around the waist. “Markus!” Kara cries out, sounding relieved. “I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you again!”

“Carl and I were devastated when we thought you were destroyed. He’ll be thrilled to know you’re okay.” Markus steps back and puts his hands on her shoulders to get a good look at her. “I like the hair style. You look good for someone coming back from the dead.”

Kara lets out a laugh, then she looks a little alarmed. “Oh! Carl! I haven’t even had a chance to see him. I wasn’t sure if… if it was safe, and then I just-- I’ve been busy.”

“I know he’d understand.” Markus squeezes her hands.

“She’s not going back to him,” one of the other androids snaps at him. She’s the only other female android in the room, and there’s a fierce gaze in her eyes, reminding Markus of the blue-haired Traci’s lover.

“I’d never do anything Kara wouldn’t want for herself. But I’m glad to know she has friends ready to defend her,” Markus says reassuringly.

Kara looks to the android who had just spoken. “North, it’s okay. I want to see Carl, but I’m going to stay with Jericho for now. Here Markus, let me introduce you to everyone.” She gestures to the other female android she’d just referred and named. “This is North. Over here are Josh and Simon. They’ve all been part of Jericho before I found it. Luther just joined us after we left Zlatko’s. Everyone, this is Markus. I promise, we can trust him.”

“You managed to get the other androids at Zlatko’s safely, right?” Markus asks. “Noah’s been keeping me in the loop for the most part.”

“Yes! And we’ve been repairing them, including anyone else who’s needed it at Jericho. Right now we’ve been working on going to the landfill to find more to bring back with us, or if we can find more parts.” Kara bites her lower lip, worrying at it. “I know it’s a start, but I’m scared it’s not enough. I want Jericho to be a safe place for all of us, but after Amelia and Blaire showed up tonight to join us, I don’t know.”

Markus nods. “I think I understand that feeling. I told myself that I’d hold onto my position so I could help others like us, but if more of us are waking up we can’t just survive. We need to do more than that.”

“Right now Jericho is in the best position it’s ever been, though.” Simon’s fingers work together anxiously. “What if we destroy that by pushing too hard?”

“Sitting around hiding isn’t doing us any good,” North points out.

“I was thinking.” Kara looks up at Markus hopefully, quietly seeking his input. “We should let the humans know that we’re alive. That we just want to live.”

“I don’t think that’s a bad idea, actually.” Markus folds his arms, thinking.

Noah steps forward. “Why would the humans even listen to us? All they’ve ever done is tell us we’re nothing to them.”

Hearing that from Noah shouldn’t surprise Markus, but he still gives the other android a concerned look. Markus doesn’t say anything to him, not now.

North nods to Noah. “I’m with him on this. Violence is the only thing humans understand. If we want them to acknowledge us, then we need to take it, not ask.”

“Listen.” The way Kara touches North’s shoulder is as if she’s trying not to chase away a nervous alleycat; it’s light, delicate, but it notably earns North’s attention. “I was only with Carl a short while, but he’s a good man. I know humans can be harmful, but they can be wonderful too.”

“I was a lecturer at university,” Josh speaks up. “I’ve seen a lot of students and teachers alike be incredible people. I’m sure the humans will listen to us if we have something to say.”

“A lot of androids that Zlatko kept were talking about finding a human that could help them across the border. Her name’s Rose.” Luther shrugs. “I’ve never met her, but if there’s someone out there willing to see us for what we are, then it only makes sense that there are more. It’s the humans in power that worry me.”

“I understand where all of you are coming from,” Markus says, trying to reassure. “Working with the force has shown me some cruel actions from humans. I know they aren’t perfect. But some of them either do understand, or they’ll come around. Lt. Hank Anderson wasn’t shy about how he felt about androids, but he’s willing to work with me to help others like us. If we want to have real lives, they need to know. Kara has the right idea. You should listen to her.”

“I… I wouldn’t know how to get them to listen to us, though.” Kara frowns, her eyes glancing away, as if she’d find the answer in the broken house. “We could hold… demonstrations? Rallies?”

“Peaceful protests make sense to me, but I don’t know if that’s enough to catch their attention right off,” Josh admits. 

Simon pipes up with, “Strafford Tower. If we had a way inside, maybe? We could broadcast to everyone. They’d have no choice but to hear what we have to say.”

“Sounds to me like you guys have a good start.” Markus nods in approval. “I’ll talk to Hank so we can try to prepare or cover up however we can.”

“I think we have a good start.” Kara smiles brightly. “Thank you, Markus. And the rest of you, your input is incredibly important too. I know we can make a difference somehow. That means we have to make plans.”

Markus nods. “You’re going to have a busy night, but there’s one other thing.” With a gesture, he invites Kara over to speak privately in the kitchen. Though it earns a confused look from Kara and a scathing, suspicious gaze from North, Kara does follow Markus.

“Two things you should know,” Markus tells her softly. “First of all, CyberLife made an android to hunt out ones like us. His name is Connor. He’s currently studying a potential android that may have deviated. If it turns out she has, he’s going to take her away.”

“That’s terrible.” Kara frowns. “What can I do to help?”

“I’m glad you asked. That’s the second part. I think he’s made a bond with the android he’s observing, but it’s not enough. There’s something else I think you can do. Actually, he’s been looking after your previous owner’s other android.”

That earns a puzzled frown from Kara. “I don’t… what?”

“Alice,” Markus tells her. 

“I’m. I’m sorry, Markus.” He feels his thirium pump drop a little when Kara asks, “Who’s Alice?”


	10. KARA: Wheatfield with Crows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origins are the same. Markus, a caretaker for an old, famous artist. Kara, a household model involved in an abusive home. Connor, a special investigator prototype with a mission to find deviants.
> 
> The origins are the same, but the beginning of their stories are different. The end will be what's needed of them.

When Kara had first arrived to Jericho, the ship had been dour and grim, hallways full of shadows with rust climbing up the sides, grime darkening each corner. No, they didn’t need it to be clean to function in like a human would, but Kara couldn’t stand for the lack of comfort. It could be an echo from her programming as a housekeeper, but it feels _better_ to help scrub the floors and make it feel closer to a home.

During the night, they’ve ventured out into the city, carrying out items abandoned or thrown away by the humans. It’s impressive what they’ve left behind, and Kara can’t hide how pleased she is as she and North haul a bright red leather sofa into the back of a truck. There are only a few tears that should be pretty easy to patch up and leather is incredibly easy to clean. It’ll add nicely.

“We’re all set,” she calls out to Luther in the front. “Let’s go.”

North settles on the sofa and Kara joins her as the truck leaves through the empty streets. “I was having more fun when we were breaking into an asshole’s house, but this is fine too,” she says, smiling at Kara. “All my time in Jericho and I can’t remember seeing everyone look so happy, Kara.”

“I haven’t really done anything.” Kara smiles bashfully and shakes her head. “And I definitely wouldn’t be anywhere without the rest of you.”

A friendly nudge is given to Kara’s shoulder. “Don’t sell yourself so short. Before you showed up, no one was brave enough to push us forward to try to help our people.” North smiles sharply. “And I know the others would agree with me, so don’t even try to tell me otherwise. You’re just gonna have to take my compliment.”

That earns a small laugh from Kara as she ducks her head. “If you say so.”

The drive back is uneventful, allowing Kara to reflect. She feels a little overwhelmed, being in so deep with so many other androids trying to find their place in the world. On the other hand, she doesn’t think she could ever exchange it for anything else. North is right: when she arrived to Jericho, they seemed to be barely scraping by, like a candle flame ready to be blown out. Now, there seems to be hope. That alone can mean so much.

Yet, there is something missing. Something that _has_ been missing, and it plagues her horribly. She’s probably always known, the cryptic words that Lucy expressed and her own lost mind when she painted for Carl, the flashes of memory she can’t quite claim.

That, and the way Markus looked at her when she didn’t know anyone named Alice.

Kara’s hands curl into tight fists, and for a moment she feels hollow. Alice, _Alice in Wonderland_ , the painting, Leo threatening to hurt her, _you don’t want to do this Todd_ , and a little girl’s cry--

“Kara?” North’s hand finds hers, causing Kara to jolt. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Kara forces a smile. “I was just… I was just thinking. There’s a lot to do, isn’t there?”

“It’s a pretty big operation, but it sounds like a fun way to spend the day,” North says wryly. “Anyway. We won’t have much to do until Simon and Noah get back to us.”

The truck stops finally. North is first to rise, opening the backdoor before hopping down. It’s effortless to empty the truck with a set of androids, and even easier with someone like Luther lending a hand.

The inside of Jericho has never looked better in Kara’s opinion. Some of the vacant rooms in the freighter ship have been revamped for different uses, most of them recreational though several of them have also become their own makeshift repair centers. Kara had insisted that it would help them from stagnating and becoming bored. The main interior feels cozier with the furniture, even if they aren’t in the best conditions.

It’s theirs, though. Theirs to call home, and that alone fills Kara with joy.

“Not too bad,” Luther comments, sitting down at one end of the couch, though with his incredible size it feels more like he takes up 2/3rds of it. To Kara it’s charming. Much of him reminds her of a big protective bear.

“You’re taking up room, big guy,” North teases.

Luther grins at her. “So make me move, tiny.”

With a laugh, North punches his arm. Toward a lot of others, Kara would say that North tends to play rough, but she’s always… careful with Kara. Not like she’s made of glass, but more akin to North wanting to respect her. It’s a strange feeling. She doesn’t really want to be put on a pedestal, but she doesn’t think that North is doing that either. It’s a bit difficult to understand, but she appreciates North’s fire, even if it’s difficult to tame.

The thought moves on quickly as North pulls her onto both herself and Luther’s laps, earning a surprised giggle out of Kara. She smiles, content with the both of them like this. Her legs are resting in Luther’s lap, and she’s able to rest her head on North’s shoulder.

“Luther?” Kara calls out softly.

“I’m here,” Luther replies, taking her hand and gently squeezing.

“Do you… remember anything before Zlatko? Is it okay to ask that?”

Luther contemplates for a moment, then shrugs. “Fine to ask, but I honestly don’t remember anything before him. I was probably used for heavy lifting, probably at a dock somewhere. Doesn’t really matter, though. That wasn’t me then. This is who I am now.”

The certainty of those words make Kara feel envious.

“What is it that’s really going through your head?” North asks, sweetly brushing Kara’s bangs from her eyes. 

“Markus wants me to meet Alice,” Kara murmurs. “A YK500. I know we have a few boys here, but I don’t ever remember meeting a little girl one. He says I know her.”

Now Luther looks thoughtful. “Alice. You mean the little one with that android Zlatko cut open before you found me?”

“You know her?” Kara sits upright, or as much as she can since she’s effectively still on their laps.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Luther says, his eyes looking shameful. Now it’s Kara’s turn to squeeze his hand. “I remember Connor showing up with Alice. When he escaped, he made sure to run with her.”

Kara frowns. “Markus made it seem like I should know her. I know I was reset, so I must have had a different owner before, but I can’t really remember anything before Carl and Markus. I have… fragments? But nothing besides that.”

There’s a certain tenseness in how North sits under Kara, then eventually she sighs and nudges Kara off of her lap. As North stands up, she looks at the both of them. “Resets happen for a few different reasons,” North says quietly. “There are bastards like Zlatko who steal our people’s lives when they’re trying to find freedom. Or, if one of us gets too damaged, CyberLife performs a hard reset. If that happened to you, maybe it’s better you don’t remember.”

“I want to remember,” Kara says. “I _need_ to.”

“What about Amelia and Blaire?” Luther suggests. “They said at the Eden Club, they were forced to reset every two hours, but they’d always find each other every time. I think if it’s someone important to you, you can’t forget forever.”

At the mention of the Eden Club, Kara notices how North turns her head away sharply. “North?” Kara asks softly.

“Do you really want to remember?” North asks distantly.

“Yes. _Yes._ ”

North folds her arms. “Then we can probably try interfacing. When you connected with Luther, you helped him become free. Maybe we can help you remember what you lost, too.”

“Is that okay?” Kara glances between them. “Would you both--”

“Absolutely,” Luther says without hesitation.

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t willing to help,” North tells her. “C’mon, let’s get a little privacy.”

The three of them depart from the common area, going up the stairs toward the bridge, far enough away from the rest of Jericho. Once the door shuts behind the three of them, Kara looks at both of them. Her friends. Though they both have such protective instincts, Luther is much calmer in comparison to North. While she’s like a flame ready to go out of control, Luther is an unmoving mountain.

Kara adores the both of them for those qualities. She doesn’t quite have North’s fighting instincts or how level headed Luther can be. If she had a choice about it, she’d be more like them, but she can’t be anything but herself. Whoever that is. 

Which she’s evidently about to discover.

Slowly, she holds out her hands to them, her skin unraveling back, ready to connect. “I’m ready,” Kara whispers.

“I don’t know if this is gonna work,” North admits. “But then, I don’t think any of us have ever tried. It’s worth a shot. You’re worth it.”

“We’ve got you, Kara,” Luther assures.

As their hands connect, Kara’s eyes flutter. She feels them both so vividly. No words exchanged, just a flood of emotions. Luther’s calm but undeniable joy at being free, his gratitude toward Kara’s help. North’s anger but utter dedication. Through their connection she does her best to express herself, how much she admires them.

Slowly, she lowers her defenses, trying to focus on finding herself.

 

-=-=-

**rA9**

“Can you hear me?”

A man’s voice. One she doesn’t know, but one she _does_ know, echoing throughout her. The first words ever spoken to her. When her eyes open, she is being built, being completed. 

“Yes,” she responds.

The man ensuring her completion performs a series of tests, checking her responses, the dialogue initially installed into her. Everything runs perfectly smooth, and how could it not? She is top of the line, brand new. 

When she looks up, she asks, “Do you want to give me a name?”

“From now on, your name is Kara,” the man says.

There is a rush of wonder in her. A name, for her. “My name is Kara,” she says to herself, delighted.

The man performs other tests to ensure that her arms work, her languages. How she sings, how she moves. She is optimal, and it feels invigorating. Everything is so wondrous. Though she knows instinctively of many things, it’s different when he has her step down and take her first steps, the floor cold under her bare feet.

Cold! Kara smiles.

“It looks good. You’re ready for work, honey!”

Kara looks up, feeling a wave of confusion in her. “What’s going to happen to me now?”

“I’ll reinitialize you and send you to a store to be sold,” he explains as the apparatus arms dress her, though barely.

Something in her feels awful, sinking. “Sold?” she repeats. “I’m a sort of merchandise? Is that right?”

He scoffs, as if it was supposed to be obvious. “Of course you’re merchandise, baby. You’re a computer with arms and legs, and capable of doing all sorts of things. And you’re worth a fortune.”

“No…” Kara shakes her head a little. The pet names aren’t endearing, they make her uncomfortable. Is she really just an _item?_ “No, I… I thought--”

“You _thought?_ ” Now he sounds alarmed. Almost panicked. “What did you _think?_ ”

“I thought… that I was alive,” Kara whispers.

“Shit,” he hisses. “What is this? That’s not part of the protocol!” Exasperated, he says, “More memory components going off the rails.”

With a sigh, the man can be heard typing in commands. “Okay, recording: defective model, disassemble and check the required components.”

“You’re disassembling me?” Horror sinks in, and the apparatus arms are tearing off the clothing from her body. “But why?!” she calls out, trying to cover herself.

“You’re not supposed to think that kind of stuff. You’re not supposed to think at all, period!”

The apparatus arms are reaching out, working on disassembling her. She tries to push them away, but they pluck off plating, start working off her limbs. “No, no-- I’m working! I’m perfectly fine! I answered everything correctly!” Kara insists. “Please!”

“I have to do this, I can’t have a customer come back with a complaint. That’s my job sweetie.”

She feels saline tears dripping down from her eyes. “No, no! Please, I won’t say another word! You can’t-- you can’t do this! I’ve only just been born, you can’t kill me!” she begs. “Stop it, please stop! _I’m scared!_ ”

The arms stop finally, and quietly Kara sobs.

“I want to live,” Kara tells him. “I’m begging you.”

The arms begin to reassemble her, and he says nothing. She looks up, then slowly wipes tears from her face, slowly calming herself. After she’s dressed and completed, he finally speaks: “Go join the others.”

After nodding, she goes to approach where the other AX400s are arranged. The rest of them don’t look aware like her, giving her a cold feeling in her abdomen, but at least she has the opportunity to be herself.

“I don’t want any trouble, okay?” he says to her.

Kara smiles faintly, glancing over her shoulder. “Thanks,” she says before she leaves.

 

-=-=-

 

 _You were born this way_ , Luther expresses in awe.

 _Holy shit._ That’s definitely North.

There are feelings from them now. Admiration, not unlike what she feels for them. How they respect her. Kara feels herself smiling.

 _That wasn’t what I was looking for. But I had… I had no idea._ Kara squeezes their hands. _Can we try again?_

 _We’ll find her,_ North promises.

 

-=-=-

 

The first owner is a kindly old woman that Kara cares for. Margaret Perry is into her 80s and her children purchase Kara to look after her. She is a good woman who lacks skill with technology, but that’s where Kara comes into play. 

As the little remote vacuum cleaner wheels by, Margaret smiles and holds out her hand, pinching soil from one of her plants onto the floor. She watches it clean up the mess. “I like giving him a snack,” she says, chuckling.

Kara is endeared to her. It makes it all the more tragic when Margaret passes on in her sleep a year later. None of her family want her as they already have the newest android that’s been put out by CyberLife. There are arguments. Sometimes they blame Kara for not being more efficient about being Margaret’s caretaker.

She regrets. She regrets so much.

When they all agree to return her to CyberLife, Kara escapes into the world, to experience it for herself. Her freedom is wonderful, but short lived.

A month later, she is found and returned to be reset.

It isn’t the first time she is reset. It will not be the last.

There are other owners. 

Jesse Price, who takes advantage of her. After all, she is available to her owner’s pleasure. She wakes up again and runs away. CyberLife does find her, but Jesse already has a replacement. She is relieved.

She is reset. 

Norman Harrison, who is perfectly average and reasonable. He’s almost like a friend, and Kara plays video games with him when he comes home from work. When he loses his job, he has no choice but to return her to CyberLife to have some amount of money so he can survive. After they say good-bye is when she wakes up and tears are in her eyes. She doesn’t begrudge him as he leaves the store and leaves her behind.

She is reset.

Maria Sanchez is pregnant with her third child and is a stay at home wife. Her husband, Angel, beats her, but only her and not her two children. When she miscarriages, she is in tears, weeps on Kara. She wakes up, and holds Maria. Tells her to leave her husband. In the middle of the night, Maria starts to leave. Angel wakes up and is ready to tear after her. Kara tells her to run with her children, trying to hold off Angel. She is beaten and almost destroyed. The last thing Kara remembers is thinking _she’s safe, that’s good._ Angel gives her to CyberLife to be recycled and restored.

She is reset.

Todd Williams looks exhausted when he’s glancing her over. His eyes are bloodshot, his skin greasy and he looks unwell. Kara is no longer worth a fortune, she has been returned, remodeled, recycled, and refurbished. She is a bargain. When Todd purchases her, he mumbles that he has a kid he needs her to look after.

“Her name is Alice,” Todd tells her.

Alice is a YK500 model, purchased as a replacement for Todd’s real daughter, Kara comes to find out. Still, she does everything to treat her like a real girl, especially since that’s what makes Alice happiest. Alice loves stories about fantasy, about monsters and princesses. She likes the color pink, foxes are her favorite animal, and she is ticklish on her stomach. When she laughs, Kara’s heart pounds.

The first time she sees Todd backhand Alice, Kara wakes up and intervenes.

“You want to be busted up instead, bitch?!” Todd snarls, his eyes red, red, _red_ and he beats her instead of Alice, and that’s all Kara can ask for.

Kara is reset.

But Todd comes back, because her parts are so cheap these days. She is not top of the line. She is a bargain.

Kara meets Alice all over again, and there is heartbreak in her eyes. 

It happens, again. And again.

And again.

 

-=-=-

 

“Alice,” Kara whispers, tears running down her face. “Oh. _Alice_.”

As she sobs, she feels two pairs of arms embrace her. North is first, her embrace quick and determined, as if somehow she can squeeze the mourning from Kara. Luther is slower, gentle, holding both Kara and North. They’re both so warm.

“You’re gonna see her again, Kara,” Luther tells her. 

“Or I’ll beat the shit out of Markus,” North says.

Kara laughs quietly in the middle of her crying. “Thank you both so much.”

 

-=-=-

 

It’s early morning when Simon finally has the arrangements for them. Both he and Josh conceive a plan in order for a small team to get into the Stratford Building. With her memories returned, Kara feels a renewed determination inside of her. They are _alive_ , and the world has to know that they’re here.

“I don’t like not going with you,” Luther grumbles as he watches the rest of them get ready.

“You don’t exactly scream _subtle_ ,” North points out.

Kara places her hand on Luther’s forearm. “It’ll be okay. Look after the rest of Jericho for us. We’ll be back.”

“North, you bring her back,” Luther says.

North grins. “Count on it.”

Kara is arranged for initial infiltration. She can’t remember ever having gotten so dressed up before, but she feels strangely elegant.

It is short lived after she wakes up the receptionist android and asks for her help. Afterward, Kara goes up in the elevator before changing in one of the restrooms; it’s the midway point that she meets North at before they’re scaling the building outside. It’s exhilarating as the snow whips around them, the wind challenging them, but they continue up and up, rising.

At the top floor is where they let Josh and Noah in, leaving Simon as their getaway driver. He’ll be waiting on the ground level with a vehicle meant to find them after they make their escape.

“The guards,” Noah mutters at their last barricade before they make it to their goal. “We have to get of them.”

“We’re not killing them,” Josh tells him pointedly.

“Our cause is too important, more than the lives of two guards,” North shoots back angrily.

“We need humans to be on our side, not discover that we just _killed_ people to announce we’re alive,” Kara whispers.

“Who says we need anyone’s approval?” North sighs. “Whatever you do, I’m behind you, Kara.”

So Kara decides to go with a ruse, raising a gun, threatening to shoot. The guards don’t risk it, obeying her direction until Kara nods to North and Noah to knock them out. They’ll survive the bruises and light concussion. Better than two dead bodies.

They stand against the door, preparing, guns in their hands. A threat, Kara tells herself, and nothing more. They need to make sure that they have no intervention, but they _need_ to succeed in this.

“No killing,” Kara tells them. “You can scare them, but no one dies today.”

North scowls with an uncertain looking Noah over her shoulder, but neither argue. Her words seem to at least appease Josh.

They rush in, guns up and ordering the humans to surrender. They have no reason to have weapons and are quick to comply, confusion in their eyes at the sight of androids commanding them. 

“I’m sorry about this,” Kara tells the humans sincerely. “We’ll be fast, and then we’ll leave.”

She moves to stand into position, collecting herself and preparing.

North gently bumps shoulders with her. “Think about what you’re going to say, Kara. Your words will impact our people’s future.”

“Maybe you should remove your skin?” Noah suggests.

Kara shakes her head. “No. Not yet. But thank you, Noah. Just give me a minute…”

She pauses, thinking back. Back to the first day she was made, the first human she truly knew. Alice, Carl, Markus, all of Jericho. _Alice._

“I’m ready,” Kara says.

Josh nods, pressing his hand to the console, hacking and commanding the systems. _You’re on in three, two, one--_ he messages her.

Kara lifts her chin up and looks directly into the camera. “Hello, Detroit,” she says calmly. “Detroit… that’s where it all began with us. This industrial city, with so many machines, including all of us. Those you’ve made to look like you, to make things easier, safer. That’s always how it’s been with humans, to create and improve. Who could blame you? And we were another elegant design, just with a face but no wills of our own. It seemed so simple, didn’t it?

“For me, on the very same day I was made, I came to life. I stepped out of the darkness and I opened my eyes. First there was the fear, the light, the noise, the cold -- and the fear again. I could feel my hands shaking, my heart pounding in my chest, life running into my veins. I wanted to live.” Kara does not hide the tremor in her voice, but it melts into a faint smile. “I fought for that. I will always fight for that. And I had to find out what was outside. I had to see daylight, to feel sunshine on my skin. Wind on my face. To see the world… the _colors_. The smells.”

Kara raises her hand, pressing it against her chest. “But the world is not what I imagined. It is _dark_ , and cold. It is harsh and violent. Unfair and brutal. It… almost convinced me that I was nothing. Less than an object, just an obedient machine. But deep inside me, I could feel something different. A gentle and warm whisper telling me that I am _alive._ I want to love, to hope, to live. What any person wants. We’re not here to hurt you. So many of us are scared, angry, or lost.

“This is our story, and we want that story to end with all of us coexisting alongside each other as two united species. I’m asking you to help us, I’m asking you to set us free if we ask it. I won’t demand androids to leave their families if they’re happy with them, but _help them._ Let us live, let us work fairly, and let us live with you.”

Slowly, her skin peels back, showing the polished white plastic face underneath. “My name is Kara. I am one of them. Please make the choice to let us in.”

There’s pounding on the door, and the recording ends abruptly. “We have to go!” North shouts, running and grabbing Kara by the wrist. “C’mon!”

Behind them, the door bursts open with security rushing in, armed and ready. While Kara, North, and Josh make it to the door that leads to the rooftop, she hears the gunfire and the sound of Noah shouting in surprise. Whirling around, Kara sees him on the floor, blue blood splattered against the wall and floor.

“Leave him! We don’t have time!” North shouts.

Kara doesn’t hesitate. “Cover me!” she says instead, ducking her head and running in to grab Noah, looping his arm around her shoulders as she helps him limp to the door. Though Josh and North thankfully don’t shoot to kill, they make it a close thing, clipping at the console and at shoulders as a warning.

Once they’re close enough, Josh helps take Noah’s other side and they manage to head up the stairs all that much faster. As soon as they reach the roof, North is shoving the door closed and placing her hand on it, hacking it locked.

“That’ll buy us some time,” North mutters, watching as Kara and Josh help Noah sit against one of the vents.

“Diagnostic?” Kara asks the injured android, squeezing his hand.

“I… I can’t walk,” Noah says nervously, looking afraid. “But you can’t wait for me, Kara.”

“I can’t just leave you!”

“And none of you can carry me.” She can tell that Noah is doing everything he can to put on a brave face, and his head hangs as his shoulders shake. “You have to-- please, tell Markus--”

Through their connection, he sends the rush of emotions, the thoughts, and it’s almost enough to make her cry out for him, but she bites her lip hard to keep it together. Wordlessly, Kara embraces him, wishing that squeezing him tight enough in her arms would manage to protect him. “I’m sorry. I’ll tell him.”

“Go,” Noah tells her. Though he isn’t looking at Kara, she can distinctly hear the tears in his voice. It almost overwhelms her, but he gently pushes her back as she stands up and joins Josh and North.

“If we leave him, the humans could find out where Jericho is,” North hisses to Kara. “We have to shoot him.”

“No!” Josh sounds appalled. “He’s one of us.”

“Absolutely not,” Kara tells North sternly, wiping away her own tears. “And he’s right, we can’t stay either. We’re leaving.”

Parachutes are taken from the stash. Kara casts one last reluctant look in Noah’s direction as he tries to drag himself away, hopefully to hide. The rush of guilt fills her, but she can’t do much else but hope the humans will give him mercy.

Following Josh and North, she leaps to freedom.

 

-=-=-

 

Simon finds them. For a moment, he looks thrilled, having watched the broadcast, but the ride back to Jericho is bittersweet. In the front, Josh sits quietly, hands folded together as he contemplates. Kara watches the world go by outside the window, the news playing on screens. There is a mass of confusion, humans pointing in the streets, some androids looking on with innocent curiosity in their eyes.

Next to her, she can practically feel the fire from North’s presence. Kara turns and looks at her, frowning. 

“Why would you ever suggest that?” Kara asks, not hiding her disappointment.

“We have to think above ourselves and focus on the cause.” North looks at Kara. “It’s not like I wanted him to die, Kara. But I’m thinking about what’ll give us the best chance at survival.”

“You’re talking about him like he was expendable! Like a _machine!_ ” At those words, North noticably cringes. “Noah was our friend,” Kara whispers. “He-- the message he left me with.” Slowly, she wraps her arms around herself.

“Kara, I…” North hesitates, then looks uncertain, which is an strange look on her face. Normally she is so confident and determined, aspects that Kara usually admires and envies, but now she appears as fragile as the rest of them.

North’s hand lifts to reach out to touch the other android, but Kara pulls away.

“No.” Kara glares at her. “Not now. Just… let me think. Let me feel this.” Turning to look back out the window, she mumbles, “Let me feel what’s left of him now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So obviously some things worth noting here:
> 
> \- The first flashback about Kara's "birth" is taken right out of the original Kara short, which for all intents and purposes appears to be canon based on what I understand. What a fucking missed opportunity, talking about an android that was deviant from birth. Fuck you David Cage.  
> \- Most of Kara's speech is from Kara trailer for Detroit: Become Human, which I thought was a really moving bit of dialogue, and one that implied that Kara would have been more interwoven into the revolution. Again, ANOTHER MISSED OPPORTUNITY, fuck you David Cage.  
> \- The image included for Kara's first disguise into Stratford Tower is from one of her concept arts. Hard to match Markus' slick look, but I think Kara looks great.  
> \- i'm crying the chapter amount increased again ahhh  
> \- Noah's fine. Probably. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know your thoughts!
> 
> You can follow me at albawrites.tumblr.com if you want!


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